Vigilant
by awordycontradiction
Summary: Jealousy, Lydia Martin knew damn well what being jealous was, how it felt and how it looked. She just never expected to be the jealous kind.
1. Chapter 1

**This is all thanks to, and all because of Jess, aka beneath the stars. Without her, I would not have had the inspiration to finally write a multi-chapter story, not to mention my first Stiles/Lydia story in a whole week. Which is disgustingly long for me. So, who ever has not read her Stiles/Lydia story GO DO THAT! Because she is awesome and it may give her the encouragement she needs to write more. **

I walked down the hall in a daze, my whole life has been a complete stupor of meaningless words, actions and blackouts lately. A lot of blackouts, actually. But I wasn't worried. It was completely normal for someone to experiences high levels of stress under extreme amounts of crisis. And what has my life been these past few months if not a huge clustered crisis?

It was just after the bell, signaling lunch, I headed towards the wide doors when something too bizarre for words caught my attention. Stiles Stiliniski and Erica Reyes were walking towards the entry too, very close may I add. They were whispering to each other, and- wait, are they smiling? Does Stiles even know what that girls deal is? When did they become friends? I pushed some curls out of my face and stormed into the cafeteria. The room buzzing with jitters, small talk, and the annoying groan of clattering trays and chairs. I made my way through the crowd to my usual table, Allison already there with that guy who's married to his camera.

What's his name?

"Lydia you remember Matt? From Sociology?" No.

"Yeah, hi." I smiled, pulling out my lunch bag.

Matt smiled at me, and I was shocked he took a second to acknowledge someone other than Allison.

Now I remember him...

"You were in that crazy Library accident right?"

Matt looked at me again, I was straining his attention.

"Yeah, don't remember much though, all I know is this girl was the first face I saw when I woke up in the hospital." Matt grinned at Allison who was way too kind not to return it.

I rose an eyebrow and suppressed a laugh, was he serious?

They fell back into a pointless conversation and I went back to picking at my sandwich. While scoping the room I saw faces in a blur, nothing was important enough to concentrate on. Nothing mattered. Before I could go back to pretending to listen to Allison and- crap, I forgot his name again, I saw the two people I didn't even know I was really looking for. They were sitting at a table in the back, three over from me. They were sitting across from each other and eating off each others plates. Erica's hair kept flipping in the horrendous florescent lighting and still managed to both look good and keep Stiles' attention. Which is a huge task, considering he can't concentrate for anything.

"Lydia?"

I jumped. Then blushed.

We were alone and my embarrassment subsided.

"Sorry." Allison smiled politely.

"For?"

"Disturbing you." Her dark eyes narrowed.

"I wasn't doing-"

"They are spending a lot of time together." Allison frowned. She didn't seem too thrilled with the idea.

I shrugged. "Scott tell you that?"

Allison nodded, staring at the back corner table. I itched to look.

"They're not together or anything?" I asked, mixing the plastic spoon around my yogurt cup.

I wanted to cringe. Why was I even asking?

Allison smiled again, whatever bothering her passing.

"No, at least I don't think so."

I looked up, my face shamelessly giving away my urge to know.

"What aren't you telling me?" I asked, pushing my food aside and tilting my head.

"Nothing Lydia-" Allison sighed.  
"Scott just told me that Stiles has been spending a lot of time with her since the whole detention fiasco. And, he thinks she's really pretty." She shrugged.

I rolled my eyes.

"Stiles doesn't like Erica, she isn't his type."

I turned back to their table, Erica was tossing a grape into Stiles' open mouth.

"Besides, so what if he called her pretty. She got a makeover. It's what she's going for."

Allison nodded, her face passive.

"Sensational is the word I think he used." She mumbled between cookie bites.

Sensational?

He called _her _sensational.

Whatever.


	2. Chapter 2

Harris was a jackass. An entitled, over compensating jackass. I hated him and I couldn't for the life of me figure out what took me so long to hop on that bandwagon. Stiles was so right about him. Stiles. His thought alone made me stiffen, feel guilty about even thinking of him, and angry. He was my lab partner and contrary to popular belief, probably the second smartest in the class, apart from me.

Well, he _was_ my lab partner, until Jackass Harris decided to switch up the agenda only half way though the quarter. Now my partner is Erica Reyes. Like seriously? What else could possibly go wrong? First my friends all decided to leave me out of the_ 'please inform' _list and then all the blackouts that leave my body weak and my heart racing- and now, now I have to work with Erica _crazy eyes_ Reyes on a fifty percent of our grade project. Working with Stiles would have been easy, he would have stayed out of my way and checked over my work just to make sure I didn't make a mistake, which I never did. Was Erica good at chemistry? Did she have a perfect grade to uphold? How the hell should I know?

As I left class seething I reconsidered the heels I wore today. Sure they looked great, made me just as tall as Reyes when I got to stare her down as we headed to our new lab table. But right now, trying to make a dramatic and well placed exit they made my usually perfect hip swing lack it's oomph. And that was not okay. Neither was the hand on my shoulder tugging me back. I looked up to see Stiles looking down at me with concern. I shrugged him off and slowed to a stop, right in the middle of the hall. Oh well go around me freshman. Stiles was looking at me expectantly, like he just knew why I was so pissed. I think that made me even more annoyed. And I didn't want him thinking this had anything to do with him no longer being my partner. That was besides the point. That didn't matter.

"You okay there?" He smiled then, adjusting the straps of his backpack.

"Perfect." I sneered.

He laughed at me, just like I knew he would.

"Harris is a total-"

"Jackass." I finished with a sigh.

Stiles nodded enthusiastically. I suppressed a laugh.

"Anyway, I saw your face in class and just wanted to say that Erica isn't all that bad. Give her a chance, she's pretty smart. Well, not as smart as me and all but-"

Stiles smiled, leaving his unfinished sentence hanging in the air around us.

I sighed. I wasn't surprised that he could read me so well, it just annoyed me that he could.

"I'm fine Stiles." I crossed my arms. "and hey, when did you two become so close?"

"What do you mean?" He asked, titling his head to the side.

His lips were set in a confused pout, his brows furrowed over his big brown eyes.

I was annoyed with myself for being so curious, for not letting this go.

"I saw you two at lunch." I felt my answer sufficed.

Stiles nodded, understanding completely, per usual.

"We're friends, and besides Scott's sick and I had no one to eat with."

"You could have ate with me!" I snapped. Out of no where.

We both blinked in surprise. The corner of his full mouth twitched.

"-and Allison." I shook my head with a smile. "Me and Allison."

He ginned. "Allison and I." He corrected me. Stiles Stilinski just corrected me.

I glared and he got the message.  
"Well thanks Lydia, next time Scott is sick, I will most definitely eat with you."

He licked his lips.

"-and Allison."

Then he was gone, side stepping out of the way of the incoming traffic of Beacon Hill's High. A shiver ran through me. He seemed different. Very different. This was unlike any conversation we ever had, he seemed controlled, he seemed to lack that usual quirk that I have come to tolerate. He wasn't acting like Stiles and I blamed Erica Reyes. No one could tell me otherwise.


	3. Chapter 3

I yawned, sleep heavy in my eyes. I didn't want to move, I didn't want to get up, start my day and pretend that I was okay. The blackouts were getting worse. This morning I was scheduled to have another session with Ms. Morell but I really didn't feel like enduring that. I didn't want to accidentally snap and unravel this beautiful facade. I knew it was ruining me, I knew that I was slowly losing my mind and that sooner or later I was going to have to come to terms with it, but for right now, I was content with remaining ignorant. I was fine with putting on a smile and venturing off into the world of high school.

But not right now. Not today.

I rubbed at my eyes and blinked. My room was too dark for the state I was in, and it was feeding into my need to just go back to sleep, pretend I didn't have school, obligations, a flimsy social life.

I blinked and it burned, but what was worse, was that I wasn't in my room. This wasn't my soft bed and bright walls. This was _that_ place. That dark, burnt, cold, distant place where my mind liked to bring me. Then it all came flooding back, as it often did. The blue eyed boy so intense and mysterious, the beautiful house, _the kiss_. Darkness, burning decrepit darkness that smothered me. Blue eyes, not at all innocent, eyes with a purpose, with evil intent. I gasped, the pain and confusion and fear, the exceptional amount of fear I had. I could feel my heartbeat through my chest, rage mixed with my utter weakness coursing through my blood. It was sickening. Fresh air, that would help.

I stood on shaky legs, thanking god that I wore sweats to bed. My mind was racing to find an appropriate,_ logical _answer for being miles from my nice warm bed in my nice big house on Park Drive. I tugged at my hair, I had straightened it the night before out of boredom, something I wasn't used to feeling. The thick, long pieces getting into my face from the draft, though I couldn't seem to find it's location. I took a breath, calming myself best I could. These were getting more and more annoying. They were inconveniencing me and I didn't know what to do.

Well, for starters, I needed to get the hell out of here. I trudged to the front door. The place emptied out into the forest. The same forest I ran naked through. I groaned and hopped down the steps, trying to remember all the boring details of that nature survival guide I had read in girl scouts. As I spun in a circle attempting to distinguish north from south I heard the crunching of leaves and my heartbeat sped up. It was still early, the sun was still on the rise and I saw an opening that I believed would lead me back to the highway. I heard more leaves rustling and I ran to hide behind the decrepit house. I didn't need another mountain lion attacking me. I peeked through the worn wood bars that would have held the front porch up to see not a mountain lion but a person, a very familiar person walking nonchalantly through the woods way too early in the morning. I wanted to leave my spot and run to her, relief of seeing a human face, even if it was one I didn't care much for, all too evident with feeling as if I could finally breathe. But I didn't move, my body wouldn't let me, like it was_ protecting_ me. I watched as her long blonde hair swayed behind her, the leather jacket clothing her, I shivered as I felt her eyes through me. But that was impossible, Erica couldn't see me here, I knew that, but her eyes penetrated through the old and damp wood looking at me. She walked away a moment later, I heard the leaves crunching as she swiftly made her exit. What the hell was she doing out here? Why would she be walking around the woods alone? I left my spot then, believing it was safe now and as quickly as possible got my ass out of there. At the edge of the clearing I caught sight of something shinny, it dazzled in the sun and sent fear through me. My car sat just off the side of the road, keys in the front seat, nothing out of place. I stared at the stretch of blacktop to the side of me with a distant and confused look. I drove here? I freaking drove to the woods? Oh my god. What is going on with me?

Maybe a trip to the guidance councilor's office wasn't that bad of an idea.

And maybe Erica's new friend Stiles would know why she spend her mornings in the woods.

Once back at school, after a hot shower, half a crazy pill my mom still kept in the medicine cabinet and normal clothing, I felt just conventional enough to march myself to the library, which was still under construction and spent my free period with the intent to learn everything I could about my brain and what the hell was wrong with it. The whole fiction section was taped off and I passed by it without even a glance, towards the psychology section. I needed to understand what was happening to me. This whole situation was so screwed up and out of character. As I tugged some books from their shelves, I realized it wasn't just me, it was everyone who was out of their usual character lately. I found a secluded table in the corner, and after dusting off some grime that had left a film on the cover of one text, got to reading. It was everyone I knew who had a complete personality makeover these last few months. Was eleventh grade supposed to be so backwards?

First it was Scott who went from zero to hero practically over night, then Jackson went insane. He was a jumpy, Jekyll and Hyde sort, who freaked out at me in the halls for no apparent reason and ditched me after having a human moment. Allison had changed too, from being the sympathetic and passive girl that just wanted to be happy with her boyfriend to this serious, agitated control freak that kept secrets and never had time for me. They all think I don't get it, they all think I can't see that they are lying and dodging me and ignoring the fact that I may actually be crazy. I skimmed some pages, trying my best not to let my eyes cross. So much information was packed in the book, words as small as ants dotting the page. I wasn't in the mood to decipher all this, especially not after what I had just endured this morning. _This morning._ Then there is Erica, she wasn't all that bad to begin with. Sure she had her seizures and the juvenile cretins that make up our grade laughed at her, but she was always kind. Then she comes into school looking like a freaking goddess and stole the attention of every boy in here, including Stiles. I blinked and slammed the book closed. He didn't matter. I groaned and went for a different one. This one entitled _Control The Mind._

This ought to be good.

Stiles was always the hardest one to figure out, probably because he was so transparent that you had to think there was something up his hooded sleeve. There was no way a guy could be that good. But he is, at least, he was, until he started lying to me too. Stiles had always been the one I could count on, I was usually selfish with how I depended on him, knowing he had feelings for me. But, just like everyone else he got this look in his eye and started to slowly detach himself, until I had no one left.

I was empty and alone and all I needed was a friend.

Not a French Canadian guidance councilor who thought she knew everything.

She could not begin to fathom what I was going through.

And I'd be damned if I was called crazy passed my own accord.

Erica strutted into the library after I skimmed over the last book. I scowled as she spotted me. She was wearing the same thing she had been this morning in the woods, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to bring attention to it, I just knew it was all I was going to be able to think about.

"Hey" She grinned, cat like.

"Erica." I nodded curtly, gathering up the books.

"Doing some light reading?" She asked.

"Project, actually."

"Oh," Erica eyed the texts in my hand. "What class?"

"Psychology." I spit quickly.

She laughed quietly. "Is there a class you don't already take?"

"It's a college course, I'm taking it online. Not like it's your business." I lied.

"Right." Erica nodded, her eyes amused. Not at all what I was going for.

"Two questions." She grinned through her teeth, holding up two long fingers.

"One, Harris said we can use the lab after school for our project."

I nodded. "Fine."

"Second-" Her face tightened a bit and her eyes darkened.

I blinked and they were back to light brown.

"Have you talked to Stiles? He isn't answering my texts."

Immediately I could see she was indeed worried. Surprisingly so was I.

"No." I shook my head, "Don't really keep tabs on him."

"Okay." Erica nodded, her smile back in place. "See you in class."

Then she strutted away.

I sighed, like I had been holding in a breath. Is there not a dress code in this school? I rolled my eyes, dropped the books on a rack and headed out the door. I wanted to find Stiles, even if Erica is a little witch, she did seem _too_ concerned for it to be nothing. After a quick stop at my locker I went to look for Scott. He had to know where his best friend would be.

He grinned when I spotted him. Typical Scott McCall.

"What's up, Lydia?" He asked kindly. Too kindly.

"Just wondering if you knew where your best friend was?"

"Stiles?" He asked blankly. No. Your _other _best friend.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, Stiles."

"Oh." He scratched the back of his neck. "Haven't seen him."

I frowned.

"You could always try asking Erica. They spend a lot of time together. He might be with her."

I felt a growl ripple through my throat. I smiled curtly.

"Thanks Scott." I went to leave but he grabbed my arm.

"Could you maybe give this to Allison for me?"

He held out a folded up piece of loose leaf in his free hand.

I shrugged him off and snatched the note. "Sure."

"Thank you!" He yelled down the hall.

_Dumb ass. _


	4. Chapter 4

"Lydia, this is for you." Mrs. Tate smiled gingerly while handing me a pink pass.

I gathered my things and bolted out the door, heading down the hall to the only place _this_ could have came from. I crossed my arms while waiting in a chair along the wall, I thought about what the last book I skimmed over said, it was all about being discrete, not giving anything away. I was thinking of just confessing, coming right out with it all, god only knows I'd feel better for about three seconds. But I couldn't do that. I knew it. I couldn't expose this insane other world I was living in. Not only for fear of being deemed crazy, but because I knew it was wrong. It wasn't my secret to tell.

If that made_ any_ sense.

"Lydia, I can see you now." Ms. Morell smiled at me.

I rolled my eyes and stood, adjusting my dress and headed towards her office door.

Coming out of the room was Jackson, and I fumbled in surprise.

"Jackson." I smiled. Mostly out of politeness, I was still pissed he hadn't tried to make things right.

He walked passed me, his scowl set, his eyes giving away nothing of a human soul inhabiting his too good looking of a body. I shook off our cold encounter and sat in the chair directly across from her desk. She sat too, smiling at me. I hated that smile.

"You missed our meeting this morning." She spoke first.  
"Yeah, I had other obligations." I smiled.

"Library research?" She tiled her head.

"What-"

"Camera's are everywhere." She noted.

I rolled my eyes and held my cardigan closer to me, suddenly feeling exposed.

"It was really important. Sorry."

"Lydia, I am only trying to help you. You do know that, right?"

"You're just doing your job." I shrugged.

"Yes, and my job entails that I try to help you open up. I cleared my schedule so that we could talk."

Ms. Morell laced her hands on top her desk.

"If you need to talk, about anything, it stays in strict confidence."

"That's not what I am worried about." I snapped.

She blinked in surprise.

"I-I mean, there isn't anything to tell." I shook my head.

"Well if there is anything you _do_ want to talk about, my door is always open."

I nodded. "Thank you. Can I get back to class now?"

"Not just yet." She looked at me, I mean, really looked at me.

"Lydia I am worried about you. So are your friends, you know, the ones that you said support you wholeheartedly? I've been hearing things." She was bating me. I glared.

"Who? Jackson?" I asked, he would never come to a councilor on his own.

"No, Jackson has a different set of problems."

"Of course he does, everybody does. Ms. Morell, please do not take this the wrong way, or do, but I am fine and I do not need some french teacher turned social worker prying into my life and trying to find problems that are simply not there." I snapped. "Now, can I please go?"

"Of course."

Ms. Morell tried not to frown, but it reached her face quicker than the smile she plastered next.

"Just remember, my door _is_ always open."

I cleared my throat as I made it to the door. I turned back to her.

"So you've said."

As I marched to my locker I decided that it was safer for Ms. Morell not to know what was going on. I mean, there is little she could actually do for me besides call a specialist and maybe get me medicated. My mother has been down that road. My fingertips tingled, remembering the other half of the pill I had in my bag. I sighed. That wasn't me. I wasn't someone who just let drugs control me, I wouldn't be one of those high school statistics. I was about to shut my locker door when it slammed for me. I jumped from the sound, and immediately snapped.

"What the hell?"

"You missed Chemistry." Erica sneered.

"Really?" I questioned, I didn't think I was in the office for too long.

She nodded.

"Well there are more _humane_ ways of telling someone."

Erica's overly glossed lips twitched, like a hidden joke was playing in her head.

"Anyway, Mr. Harris wasn't in class either so I'm guessing that we can't work after school."

"Okay." I was barley listening.  
"But we really should start working on this. Have you thought of any ideas?"

"No, sorry." I shook my head. "I've been busy."

Erica nodded, then her eyes moved passed me, a small smile lighting up her face.

I was about to turn around, to follow her gaze when she whispered one word.

"_Stiles." _

I tried to ignore the relief in her voice, tried to pretend that she wasn't acting like a human being for one reason only. I wanted to walk away now, salvage my moment of peace, not have to see Stiles around Erica. But god would only know why. I forgot all about myself as he walked over to us, which was a first for me. His face was tired, and his eyes, those bright brown eyes that always looked at me with such adoration that it could literally breathe life into you, were sunken and dark. He looked like the weight of the world was on his shoulders and Erica was at his side in a swift second. I blinked, surprised by the act. He shot her a look, but it wasn't one that I had always given him when I was hurting. This one was a silent thank you. What, can they read _each others_ minds now? How cute. He looked away from Erica then, and right at me.

I tried to ignore that shiver of satisfaction racing down my spine.

"Uh." He gulped. "Erica, could you give us a minute?" His brows furrowed.

Erica looked from me to Stiles and then, her shoulders slouched a bit and she walked off.

But of course, not before whispering "Find me later."

I bit my inner cheek. _Tying too hard there Erica?_

I heard the clacking of her heels down the hallway. They echoed, letting me know she was still around.

Once they finally died off Stiles stood in front of me. I had to crane my neck some to see him, remembering quickly that I ditched my heels for Uggs. He was taller than I remembered.

Stiles wasn't looking at me, but to his jean pocket, rustling around to find what he was so eagerly looking for. Stiles looked the same from here, same T-shirt-jean combination. Same hoodie and same scuffed up sneakers. I couldn't see his face, and I relished in that. Looking into those empty voids that once were his big brown eyes gave me a terrible feelings, like my heart hurt for him, like I was _actually_ feeling something for Stiles Stilinski. His eyes dark and isolating were all too similar of this morning and my joyride to the woods. Stiles' eyes were always supposed to bring warmth.

"Here." He mumbled, softly sliding something into my hand.

I looked down, to see another note.

"Allison found me when I got into school, I know you have class with Scott so I thought maybe you could, you know, give it to him." He shrugged, licking his lips.

"Yeah, sure, Stiles." My voice held too much softness for my own liking.

He nodded, shoving his right hand into his pocket, the other wrapped around the strap of his backpack.

"Hey, wait." I touched his arm, immediately retracting it.

He followed my hand as it fell back at my side. His face still holding that sadness.

"Uh, are you okay?" I asked gently.

He looked back into my eyes and no matter his answer, I knew the truth.

"Never better, Lydia." He sighed while attempting to leave.

"No." I scoffed, holding onto his sleeve.

Stiles sighed, again. An annoyed sound. One I was all to familiar with.

Though, I was used to this whole situation being reversed.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Please, have you seen yourself? You look like someone died."

The darkness disappeared, his eyes lightening up like fire ignited.

I stepped back. Was Stiles mad? I had nothing to compare this to.

"Shut up, Lydia." He gritted his teeth.

"No. You look so, so- I can't even find the words- and you come to school late? What's going on with you, Stiles?" I wanted to shove my purse down my throat. I was pushing where I never have before.

He looked down at me, his face completely unreadable, an unnerving feeling.

"I wasn't going to come to school today. Mrs. Argent called my dad."

Stiles rolled his unreadable eyes.

"It's my mom's anniversary, and I would rather just be left alone, if that's okay with you?"

His words were cold. Colder than my blackouts.

His mom, her death. I wanted to kick myself. I really was selfish.

"Stiles, I-"

"Forget it Lydia." He sighed, his eyes becoming more and more normal, more him.

He walked away then, and I was sort of relieved. I wouldn't be able to say another wrong thing. When did we change places? When was I not in control of a conversation involving Stiles Stilinski? I felt horrible, I was a monster. I watched him walk away, probably to find Erica. I groaned and fell back against my locker. The bell rang, letting out seventh period, or was it sixth? I really didn't know anymore.

I didn't know much of anything.

He was there when I got home. He had never been to my house before, well _he_ had, but not like this. I was almost missing the innocent blue eyes and pale, pale skin. He was standing in my yard, overlooking the pool. His burnt hands were in the burnt coat, everything was still in place, still quiet and eerily normal considering he wasn't real, he wasn't really here. But he was, and my fear was more real than anything else at the moment. He turned to me then, sensing me. The blue eyes piercing into me, sending shivers down my spine. The shivers were so stark in contrast to the ones Stiles had given me today, when he chose to talk to me instead of Erica. I blinked and he was gone. How was that possible? Usually I would wake up screaming or crying or a mixture of both. This I had more control over, this was different. I walked deeper into my yard, searching for him. Searching for Peter Hale, because that was who he was after all, wasn't he? I had known it the moment I followed him from the girls room, after Jackson's hallway outburst. I saw his name on that award in the trophy case. Peter Hale, uncle of Derek Hale, the guy who tried to kill all of us in school that night. Or who knows, maybe that was a lie too. He was acquitted right?

After figuring out who it was that I was seeing, I did all the research I could. I learned that he never died in that fire at the Hale house, just badly burned, he was in Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital, or was, until he disappeared. It made so much sense, yet so little and it was just easier keeping him nameless.

Safer even.

But to get out of one of those dreams so quickly was not only crazy but impossible. I had tried everything, every single thing you could think of to wake yourself up. I tore through internet article on nightmares like it was a Nicholas Sparks novel. Not like I actually read those. But nothing fit what I was going through, nothing made sense, nothing worked.

Until just now.

Until I thought of Stiles Stilinski.


	5. Chapter 5

It was two days later, a Thursday, and I was back in the library, this time, dare I say in the Science Fiction section. The library was back to normal, only a handful of books out of stock. I was alone, thankfully. I really didn't want to try explaining this to someone I knew, and lets face it, I knew just about everyone. I skimmed the shelves, looking for answers to questions I didn't even know yet. I just hoped that when I found it, I'd just know. I was in the middle of an amusing piece on witchcraft when I heard voices, an aisle over from me. I was about to leave, when the voices became more familiar. I softly placed the book back and moved closer to the shelf in front of me.

"Am I bothering you?" The voice asked, dominantly.

"No, I'm just trying to figure a few things out right now."

"No, I don't mean right now Stiles, I mean in general."

_Silence. _

"Is this for Derek?"

"Yeah."

"Do you think you're any closer to figuring out whose controlling J-?"

"Can you keep your voice down, Erica? God. What if someone's listening?" Stiles interrupted.

"No one's listening."

"Whatever. Bet those Catwoman senses are tingling."

_More silence. _

"Are we ever going to talk about it." She was quiet. It was harder to hear.

Stiles was closer to me, I could hear him breathing, it was a comforting sound.

He snapped a book closed and set it back on the shelf.

"I'm not sure how I feel about everything." He confessed, his voice tight.

"I know you didn't expect that, but I mean I'm here, ya know."  
"Yeah, only cause Derek told you to be. I know he doesn't trust me."

"That's not why and you know it." She seethed.

I could almost imagine Stiles rolling his eyes.

"Can we just talk about this later?"

"Whatever you want, Batman."

Then she was gone, they both were.

I stepped backwards until I hit the opposite row of books. My head was fuzzy.

What the hell just happened? Stiles is still talking to _Derek,_ Derek, Peter Hale's nephew. Maybe Stiles knows about him, knows about all this. I knew it was a long shot, but I mean it's not like I have to confess my life story, I can just ask a question. I'm entitled to some questions. Was he still mad at me? I haven't talked to him since the other day, in the hall, when I was being completely insensitive. And what was that all about? Who is being controlled? I _knew_ they were keeping something from me. If anyone is being controlled it's me, by a figment of my imagination, and so far, Stiles was the only cure.

I tried it again the other night, as I laid in bed restless, I felt myself slipping into the familiar darkness. I felt the cold yet burnt hold that he had over me, suffocating me, and then I thought of Stiles, I thought of the time I cried in my car, I thought of the way he was so persistent in trying to make me talk, much better than that hack of a Guidance Councilor. The panic like attack slowly drained away, and I felt normal again. He was my secret weapon. And staring at the abundance of books around me, I wasn't any way closer to finding out why.

I figured if anyone knew anything it would be Allison, and she was the easiest to talk to, being my best friend and all. As we sat at lunch I thought about how I was going to bring up the conversation over a string cheese. I pulled it apart piece by piece, waiting. Allison couldn't have been more oblivious to my inner turmoil, completely misreading this lunch, this friendship, this rut we were in. She probably had no clue that I was so freaked out, probably couldn't see the fear in my eyes if it was screaming at her, pleading to be saved. But I didn't need to be saved, and if I did, I would be the one doing it.

"Does Scott still talk to Derek Hale?" I asked, not looking up at her.

I heard the apple she had been nibbling on drop onto her tray and I smiled. That's a yes.

"I don't think so." She lied, her voice rose an octave or you know, three.

"It was unexpected when he showed up a couple weeks ago."

"Why-" She cleared her throat. "why do you ask?"

I shrugged, my best attempt at being indifferent, though I doubt she'd notice.

"No reason, he popped into my head last night, wondered about him."

"Don't." She mumbled, rather harsh for Allison.

I looked up at her, surprised by her forcefulness.

"Why?"

"He's bad news."

"I know that." I scoffed at her, chewing on a piece of cheese.

"You don't understand Lydia." Allison sighed.

I wanted to roll my eyes, wanted to scream at her that the only reason why I wasn't understanding was because no one was telling me a damn thing. I wanted to ask about her aunt, how she was the cause of the fire at the Hale house, how she was the one to burn it down. I wanted to ask if there was a reason for it, if they really were bad people, because why would I be seeing a good person in my nightmares telling me that he _'has a job for me',_ and that _'in time I will know'_? Good people don't do that.

But the way she was looking at me shut me right up. I wasn't in the mood for a fight, I was on display quite enough for the general public and I didn't want to cause another scene, and I didn't want to be alone. Even though Allison was lying, hiding things from me, it was still better that she was here, because I really didn't have anyone, contrary to being the most popular girl at Beacon Hills. I was probably the loneliest. I nodded at her then, because I had been trying to tell myself that she was trying to protect me, she was keeping me in the dark for my own good, and she didn't know how much darkness really did consume my life. She had no clue.

"Tomorrow night, lets do something?"

"Do something?" I deadpanned.

"You know, hang out. We never do that anymore."

"You are always busy." I pointed out.

Allison smiled, and it reminded me of bowling and shopping and having fun.

"You, me, Scott, Stiles maybe. I don't know, but lets just go somewhere and forget everything."

That sounded too good to be true, but so inviting.

"Okay." I whispered.

The last time we had a makeshift double date I saw Peter Hale just below the ice, a flower that I learned to be called wolfs bane sprinkled on top. I was equally excited now of course, to see what kind of hallucination my brain had in store. But Stiles was smiling, and maybe it was just the fumes of his jeep or maybe it was the migraine inducing lights dotting the side of the road, but I was happy and I knew, just knew that things were going to be okay. Stiles was the key to it all, right?

We ended up at a greasy pizza place right outside of town, Scott said that the bowling alley was our best bet but it reminded me too much of Jackson and I declined while ignoring the napkin Stiles handed me to wipe off some of the oil on my slice. It was only after I had taken a modest bite that I noticed the rest of them dabbing at their pieces. I rolled my eyes. Didn't they know it was better this way? Stiles seemed to, he was the only one licking the retreating oil from his wrist. I shivered. Oh my god, is that really going to turn me on? I was really just happy to be out of the house, with real people, my crappy with good intentions friends. I smiled while Scott and Allison kissed, laughed when Stiles burnt the roof of his mouth, and I surprised myself for loving every minute of this.

Stiles had mentioned that it was a dollar to rent Skates at the roller rink tonight, and that reminded me of Ice Skating. It reminded me of Peter Hale and having a freak out session right on the cold ice. I ripped a good pair of tights that night. But it also reminded me of Stiles offering me Reeces Cups, and holding my hand while skating around the rink. It reminded me of 'good combinations', and being coy. It reminded me of Stiles protecting me from myself, holding me close and trying his best to both understand and shelter me. I agreed rather eagerly because I'd give anything to keep that smile on his face. He was in a better mood today, but we still hadn't talked about the other afternoon. I wanted to apologize, I wanted to make it right, I didn't want to ever see that smile disappear again.

An hour later we were at "Roll" The cleverly named roller rink in Beacon Hills. I gave Stiles a dollar to get me skates but he pushed it off and walked towards the counter. I wanted to make a remark about him being a 'big spender' but I bit my tongue. I was sitting down at one of the tables that overlooked the large dimly lit roller rink. I had a small spasm of panic, there were a lot of people here, a lot more than our isolated ice skating session. Allison sat across from me, smiling as she dropped her skates on the ground. I smiled back. We barely spoke, just the two of us all night.

"I'm glad we're doing this." She yelled over the music.

"Me too." I nodded.

"I really am sorry about how things are going lately."

I shrugged, not wanting to ruin this night.

"I want to tell you everything that's been going on, but I just need you to be a little patient."

I looked at her, _wait,_ is she serious?

"Can you do that?"

I nodded quickly as the boys came to the table.

After we all put on our skates Allison took Scott to a carpeted area, one that would be easy for him to practice skating, you know, so he wouldn't endanger innocent bystanders. Stiles nodded towards the rink and I smiled while following. The rink was packed, there were teenagers everywhere. Some we knew, some I have never seen before. It got so crowded at one point that Stiles reached for my hand. I want to lie, I want to say that I didn't shiver, that our hands touching didn't mean anything. But the way he smiled at me, as we finally drifted towards each other gave me no regrets. This was insane though, last time we held hands I felt nothing. Or- at least, I thought I felt nothing. I was really considering rethinking everything this boy ever made me feel. Why? Well, because there had to be a reason that thinking of Stiles Stilinski made everything better. There had to. I wouldn't be doing this if there didn't. His smile, his sparkly eyes, his beauty mark infested face, his warm hand, everything wouldn't mean anything if this didn't somehow fix me.

I was purely using Stiles for the sake of my sanity.

At least, I would keep telling myself that.

The skating rink cleared some, the night dwindling down, I didn't know where Allison and Scott were but I really didn't care. Stiles and I continued rolling around the wood paneled circle, over and over until things began to blend, people, colors, movement. It was all lost between Stiles and I and our conjoined hands. He had let go once people started getting tired, started leaving the rink, but then the DJ announced a couple's skate. I knew I shouldn't have, but I reached for his hand, I held it in mine and that moment would be ours forever. When the hell did I become this person? I was smiling like an idiot, and it was all because I was holding Stiles' hand, because he_ let_ me hold his hand.

"I'm sorry about the other day. I was such a bitch."

Stiles shook his head, looking at me.

"I wasn't acting like myself, I shouldn't have been surprised you noticed."

"You were surprised?" I questioned, eyebrows furrowing.

He laughed, and it irritated me.

"You really don't understand how you come off to people."

That wasn't true, I knew exactly how I came off to people, I just didn't really care.

"You act like nothing matters if it doesn't have any significance to you."

I looked down.

"But hey, that's okay." Stiles licked his lips, giving my hand a squeeze.

"No it's not." I mumbled.

"I know you're not really like that Lydia."

Stiles' voice was at my ear, I could taste his Axe body spray and garlic from his pizza.

_It was intoxicating._

We drifted towards the exit of the rink and sat at a table that overlooked the whole place.

"Did you do anything special, it being the anniversary and all?" I asked, picking apart a napkin.

"No, I kinda wanted to just forget about it." He answered, his leg twitching.

"You should go to the cemetery some time."

He started to shake his head, a small smile on his face.

"I'd go with you."

I looked up then, his eyes big and brown, his lips open some. He looked surprised, but at the same time thoughtful. I was trying and I had no clue why. I didn't need to help Stiles be happy just to end some bad day dreams, I didn't need to feel these things, I didn't need to want to make everything better. It's not like if my parent was dead I would go to the cemetery to visit them, probably because I wouldn't have anyone to go with, but I didn't have that problem, he did.

"You'd do that?" He asked quizzically. I tried to ignore the skepticism in his voice.

"Yeah, Stiles I would."

"Why?"

"Because you would do it for me."

Then it happened, the one thing I had been waiting for, and the one thing I hadn't imagined ever wanting. Stiles grabbed my hand, the one that was shredding a brown napkin and stroked my knuckles gently, we looked at each other the same time. He licked his lips and leaned across the table, my heart pounded out of my chest as I did the same. His eyes were different, there was a fire in them, not the same angry fire that distorted him the other day, this fire was passionate and determined and it sent such a rush of adrenalin through my veins, I thought I may pass out. Stiles, Stiles Stilinski, if someone was to tell me last week I was about to kiss him, something I knew he had wanted to do since the third grade, I would probably roll my eyes. But this was different, this felt right. I was acting like the one with a eight year crush, not him. He looked so serious, like he knew what he was doing, like he's done it countless times, had he? Our faces were close, our noses nearly touching, my eyes closed first.

And then it happened. Part of me wished I was in another one of my nightmares.

"Erica." He growled in a hushed tone.

Erica Reyes wasn't in my nightmares. That was a welcomed thought.

I snapped back immediately, he did too, Erica was standing above us, her face amused, her eyes scorching. I blinked in the fierceness of it. Stiles looked un-phased, just annoyed.

"What the hell are you doing here? How did you find us?"

"Where's Scott?"

"-and you brought Issac?" Stiles complained.

"Where is he, Stiles?" Erica demanded, ignoring his questions.

"What's wrong?"

"You guys need to come with us, now."

I was so, so confused. A minute ago I knew everything, I knew that I was about to kiss Stiles, I knew that I was okay with that, I knew that I was majorly disappointed right now. I felt Stiles jump to his feet, I felt Allison and Scott's presence, I saw everyone around me with panicked looks, but I had no clue why. I saw Stiles' eyes, they kept darting to me as Erica spoke in hushed tones to him and Scott. I felt the plea he was giving me. We were _always _interrupted. I felt the cold metal of his keys digging into my palm and I faintly heard him yell "drive my jeep home" before he was gone and Allison had grabbed my arm, tugging me towards the exit. I felt it all, experienced it all, but why did I feel so detached, like this wasn't my life, like it was a movie playing on a screen?

Why was this so oddly normal for me?


	6. Chapter 6

I cut the engine and slammed the door. So what if his dad was home. Allison gave me a pointed look, sure, I was acting like a seven year old, and I didn't really give a damn. What the hell happened? Why was Erica there? Why did Scott and Stiles completely ditch us? I wanted to yell at her, ask her so many questions, but the tired look she had in her eye gave me a sense of clarity. She had _no_ idea.

I sighed while walking over and rubbing her arm. Sure it was out of character, but I had been for a while, after all. Allison smiled then, one of those real, adorable smiles. I did too, and walked with her back to my car that was parked on the side of the road. We drove to her house in silence, the whole way there letting the radio hum some tunes that neither of us cared much for.

It was something Stiles would have liked, an indie band, I think. Stiles. Anger washed through me. He just left me there. He is so lucky that my dad had taught me to drive stick a year ago. But he must have known that. Wasn't his dad teaching him too? I let my head rest on my knuckles as I drove, the same knuckles he stroked with his surprisingly soft hand earlier. That whole moment was perfect. Why the hell did Erica Reyes have to go and ruin it? It had to have been what she wanted. I pulled into Allison's semi circle driveway and put the car in park. We sat in more silence. She was playing with her hands, something that I have learned over these past few months that calms her.

"I can't go in there like this." She whispered.

"They'd ask too many questions." I nodded.

She sighed, a long drawn out breath.

"Are you okay?" I asked, knowing damn well she wasn't.

"Sure, Lydia. I just hate when he does that."

"Scott?" She nodded.

I licked my lips, she told me to be patient, she told me she'd tell me everything. Was this the time?

"Anyway" She smiled, her eyes still glassy. "I'll see you on Monday."

This obviously wasn't the time.

I nodded.

"Goodnight, Allison."

"Night, Lydia."

Then she was gone. The large front door closed behind her.

I drove home still listening to that indie station.

I spent all Monday analyzing Issac Lahey.

Not stalking, just monitoring.

I really don't remember much of him, I know that he had an extremely hot older brother, he worked at the pool when I was a junior life guard. I know that he is Jackson's neighbor, he was on the lacrosse team and that he was pretty much an outcast. He did hang around a lot with Erica now. So did that mean he hung around Scott and Stiles? I rubbed my temple while I watched practice today from the bleachers. The breeze was chilly and it helped some with my mental clarity. Championships were coming up soon and the team was working over time. Issac had something to do with all my friends lying. He had to, Erica too. They all fit into this puzzle that I was piecing together all wrong. Issac had a complete makeover as well, and sure he was good looking, all sharp angles and strong jaw, but there was something different there too, not just physical, he seemed, I don't know, dangerous.

Stiles had spotted me, waved and clambered his way over. I smiled, feeling my pulse rise.

"Hey, Lydia. What are you doing here?" _Stalking. _

"Nothing, just felt like watching practice." I shrugged lamely.

He sat next to me, bulky from the padding.

"Coach said I might get to actually play in the championship."

I nodded, watching as Issac walked the opposite way of the locker room, towards the woods.

"That's nice." I mumbled absentmindedly. What the hell was he doing?

"So, about Friday night-" He started.

"Don't worry about it." I shrugged.

"No, you deserve an explanation."

Oh, is he actually going to give me one?

I looked up at him, sweat trickled down the side of his face, perspiration damping his upper lip.

"I'm sorry that I had to leave, and that I made you drive my jeep, and that we were- interrupted."

He wasn't looking at me, he was fooling around with his gloves.

I smirked, glad he wasn't just going to pretend it didn't almost happen. Though I had no doubt that he kept the memory on a loop in his mind, like I had. Against my better judgment, of course.

I heard her before I saw her.

"Like we are being right now." I heard him growl. No longer looking at his glove but towards the blonde in front of us.

"Sorry if I'm intruding, I just really need to talk to you, Stiles."

"Perfect timing." I sneered at her. "I was just leaving anyway."

I gave Stiles a look and he was screaming sorry with his eyes.

I walked off the bleachers and back towards school.

I turned quickly ready to tell Stiles to call me later, you know, so I could ask him a few questions about Derek and Issac and why he was lying and why he was rushed out of the roller rink, and maybe just a little to get the satisfaction of seeing Erica's face. But the comment died in my throat, as I turned to see Erica wrapped in Stiles' arms, she was pressed so close to him I swear I couldn't breathe for him. Was she crying? I turned again, and practically ran back into the school.

I could care less if Erica and Stiles hugged. I mean, please, I wasn't in seventh grade. This was innocent and just stupid of me to act like a child. What the hell was this feeling? Stupid. It was just stupid. I groaned and headed towards my locker, needing my things before I drove home. I mean honestly, Jackson taking Allison to Formal didn't even feel like this. That was different, that was real. This wasn't real. Stiles Stilinski and Erica Reyes didn't matter. I'd come to my senses soon, I prayed. As I turned the corner, searching my bag for my phone I slammed right into someone. I looked up, ready to yell, when I saw the look in those green blue eyes.

"Jackson?" I breathed. "Are you okay?"

He looked terrible. I mean I have never seen this boy look even remotely sick before, but this, this was a sight. He was sweating, but he wasn't at practice, his eyes were bloodshot, his hand trembled as it wiped at the beads of sweat on his forehead. I gulped a bit, taking a step back.

"Do you need the nurse? She may still be here."

"No." He snapped. "I don't need the nurse."

"Can I get you water, or an Advil, I think I have one in my purse."

I went for my bag, to rummage through it when his tight hold took my wrist. I gasped in panic.

"Jackson, let go." I shook my arm free.

He blinked and stepped further back.

"S-Sorry." He was panting.

"I-I gotta go."

And then he stormed off.

Could he be any weirder?

I sighed, trying to shake this sense of danger overcoming me and headed to my locker, after grabbing my books I shut the door and was faced with someone I never thought I'd ever actually meet.

"Lydia Martin, correct?"

I nodded quickly.

"Hi, I'm-"

"Derek Hale." I whispered, my pupils had to have been dilating.

He was rugged and dangerous, cloaked in leather and scruff.

He was sexy, mysterious, and threat-less green eyes.

"I am looking for Jackson, have you seen him."

What, did everyone replace me with_ this_ guy?

I shook my head, because I didn't think he was coming to chum it up with Jackson.

"Sorry, haven't seen him." I smiled.

"Hm." He looked at me, jaw set. Like he _knew_ I was lying.

"If you do see him, do me a favor-" He smiled at me.

I swear his eyes were telling me to run.

"Call Scott or Stiles."

I nodded, a bit breathless.

He started to walk away, back down the hall where I assumed he came from.

"Hey, Derek?"

He turned.  
"How's your uncle, Peter?"

His threat-less eyes, they turned cold.

"Why do you ask?"

I shrugged."Saw him the other day."

Derek stiffened, and I knew I had made a mistake.

Well, so much for being perfect.

"You must have the wrong guy, Lydia. He's dead."

Then he was gone. Then I panicked.


	7. Chapter 7

**Short, I know. I needed a filler... **

"We need to talk." I demanded, walking into Scott McCall's house, completely uninvited.

The two looked up at me, surprised.

I was un-phased that they were mid make out, Scott's shirt was off, no surprise there, and Allison looked like a dear in the headlights. I waited for them to somewhat compose their selves.

"I'm waiting." I crossed my arms and stood my ground.

I was not leaving.

After Scott had put his shirt back on and Allison got over her initial shock things went straight to denial. We were sitting at Scott's dining room table, his mom at work, a plate of cookies in front of us.

"I want to know everything, Allison, you told me you'd tell me."

Scott looked at her. Like they've had this conversation before.

"You told her that?" He demanded.

"I had to! She needs to know! And after the other night-"

"Hi, I'm still here!" I yelled.

They of course, ignored me.

"This isn't your decisions to make, Allison!" Scott snapped.

My best friend's face was a mix of amusement and anger.

He was so getting it.

"Not my decision? Since when did you start calling all the shots?"

As they fought, I thought if my conversation with Derek Hale. Peter was dead. That made more sense then anything else. Maybe I am a medium. I then began fantasizing of having my own TV show and reuniting family members with their dead loved ones. God was I insane. I was interrupted, not by the couple pretty much reenacting my parents divorce, but by the loud clang from upstairs.

I looked to the ceiling. "What was that?"

"Just Stiles." Scott answered, distracted.

"He climbs through the window?" I interrupted again.

"My mom took his house key." Scott answered hasty.

I blinked. Not at all surprised.

Moments later he descended down the stairs and spotted us in the dining room.

When he saw me sitting there his eyes widened.

"What are you doing here?"

"Stiles!" Scott snapped.

"Do you think it's a good idea to tell Lydia everything?"

"Everything?" Stiles answered.

"_Everything_." Scott echoed, glaring at Allison.

"Well, uh-" Stiles started, going back to his exasperated roots.

I had enough.

"Listen. I know that you are lying to me. All of you."

I made it a point to look each of them in the eye.

"I also know that you don't want to tell me, to protect me or something." Stiles nodded.

"But something's going on with me, mentally." I mumbled.

"And telling me could really save me some counseling sessions and VIP treatment in the library."

They were silent, what a surprise.

"Okay, why is Derek Hale looking for Jackson? And why is Jackson acting so crazy?"

Allison shot her head down. So did Scott.

I sighed, tugging at my hair.

"Why are you working with him on something? Who is being controlled? Why did you leave the roller rink on Friday?" I took a breath. "Stiles, why are you hanging out with Erica so much?"

That last question wasn't meant to be there, that last question should not have been a thought.

"I need to get home." Allison sighed.

No. she couldn't do this.

"I know, I'm sorry Lydia. But I need to, it's my dad." Her eyes landed on her cell.

"I have work in fifteen minutes." Scott answered.

"I'll drive you." Allison mumbled, grabbing her bag.

Were they serious?

Stiles was staring at me, I don't think he ever stopped.

"What?" I snapped, nearly in tears because of these people.

He walked over and hugged me.

I know he has seen me cry, I shouldn't have been ashamed. I know that he was just trying to comfort me, but it didn't matter. I was done. I was done with all of them. This reminded me of earlier in the afternoon, when Erica was wrapped up in his arms, just like this. I didn't care who initiated that hug. I didn't care about anything right now. I pushed Stiles off me and sniffed.

"I-" I started, my voice cracking.

What was I going to say? How could I stand my ground and not want to cower away like a child.

I wasn't a child, hadn't been for too damn long. And the last thing I was going to do was sit here and be lied to, and dodged and ignored. So, yeah, I was done.

I slammed the door on all of them.


	8. Chapter 8

"Lets just create a chemical bond diagram." I yawned.

"What?"

I rolled my eyes "It's elementary."

"Wanna quote Sherlock some more, or wanna not fail chemistry? I thought you were the smartest kid in school. I'm missing lunch for this?" Erica crossed her arms, pouting.

"I've been dealing with a lot of stuff Erica, okay? You want to think of something better? Go for it."

Erica looked down, I rubbed my temple. I didn't mean to snap. I was actually trying to be as calm as I possibly could be. You know, considering. I was also exhausted, completely drained. I had another nightmare last night, and it took longer than I expected to get out of it. I didn't understand. I thought Stiles was the way out, I had thought of us holding hands, our talk on the bleachers, almost kissing. Nothing helped, and I woke up on my front porch crying and freezing. I had no clue how I got out of my room, out of my bed, but my feet were filthy with dirt and I faintly smelt of perfume that I would never wear. I rubbed my eyes and looked back at Erica who was taking down a brown box labeled 'Bonds'. I smiled weakly at her and she just shrugged.

"Lydia, look-" She started, her voice was soft, the box fell on top the table with a thud.

I looked at her eagerly. She had never talked to me so, humanly.

"Hello ladies!" A voice called from the doorway.

I laughed, not because I was happy with who I saw, but because this was the pattern of my life as of late. Interruption after interruption. Usually, I would have been thrilled that someone was interrupting Erica and I, but not right now, not with who it is, or the tone of her voice. I wanted to hear what she had to say to me. But of course, god forbid Lydia gets an answer or thrown a freaking bone.

"Hey Stiles." Erica mumbled, stepping further away from me.

"Hi Lydia." He muttered, quietly.

I didn't even look at him.

"Allison asked me to bring you this." He slid a coffee and bagel towards me over the black counter.

Were they trying to win me over with food? It wasn't going to work.

But my stomach growled, giving me away.

I saw the corner of his full lips twitch, he wanted to smile.

_His lips. _Full, pink, and so soft looking. I thought about kissing him. Wanted to, even.

"Here Erica, I got you this." He handed her a sandwich.

She smiled and took it. I don't know why, but him getting her a sandwich from the cafeteria hurt. It's not like I wanted him to get me one, it's not like I even eat cafeteria food. It just sort of bothered me that he got her something and Allison got me Starbucks. I was grateful, no matter how pissed I was at her. But still, seeing Stiles and Erica smiling at each other drove me crazy, like I was forcing this to happen. Like I was bringing them together. I snapped out of it and took a sip from the cup.

"Well, I have to get going, but good luck on the project."

He left a moment later, turning slightly at the door, to say something? He thought differently and left and I felt cold. I took another swig. The warmth of the coffee really did wonders on my still frozen body. I turned back to Erica, but her eyes were averted to her sandwich. Stiles' sandwich. I knew it was his. He always ate cold chicken cutlet. I groaned, inwardly and opened the box, taking out the electrons, and atoms and the sticks.

I don't know why chemical bonds popped into my head, it was so spur of the moment last night while I was falling asleep. I thought of bonds, how they affected everything, people even. I thought of how I blew up on my friends, and I do use that term loosely right now. I thought of the bond I had with Stiles, how thoughts of him saved my life when I was losing myself. Why was that so diluted right now? Why did it take me so long to come back last night? Why wasn't this theory working?

"So have you thought of who you want to ask to the Sadie Hawkins dance?" Erica made conversation.

"Sadie Hawkins dance?" I mocked. They still had those.

"Oh, right." She smiled brightly. "They are making the announcement eighth period."

I looked at her. "Care to explain?"

"I'm on the Student Activity Committee." She offered, twisting the sticks into the blue balls.

"Oh."

"Anyway, is there a boy you _want_ to ask?" She was baiting me.

I laughed. "Is there a boy _you_ want to ask?" I questioned.

"You could say that." She answered coyly.

Stiles. It was Stiles and I knew it.

But I didn't care. Why should I? He was a liar after all. They deserved each other.

"Well I say go for it." She gave me a look of skepticism

"You're a knock out now," I shrugged. "Any boy would say yes."

"Really?" She smiled, genuinely.

"In a heartbeat." I whispered, believing it wholeheartedly.

Like clockwork, eighth period rolled around and so did that announcement. I felt Stiles' eyes on me. Did he want me to ask him? Please. Puppy eyes weren't going to work. Answers, they might. But not those big brown eyes. They meant nothing to me. I was at my locker after the bell, I practically rushed out of that room. I stared at my reflection, I looked the same. I could barley tell that I was a wreck, how were my friends supposed to know? They just were. I told myself. _They just were_. I couldn't tell you why I looked at the moment I did, I couldn't tell you if it was a noise I heard, or maybe my name was called, or maybe it was the bond I kept thinking of, but I looked and it was the worst mistake I could have made, worse than talking to Derek Hale yesterday, worse than anything.

_Stiles and Erica. _

_Stiles and Erica talking. _

_Stiles looking at me. _

_Me looking away. _

_Stiles and Erica talking and smiling._

_Me looking back. _

_Stiles nodding and Erica smiling._

_Stiles and Erica holding hands. _

Great. Just, -just great.

I was going to that dance.

Who do you ask to a Sadie Hawkins dance when every guy thinks you're crazy?

Simple, you ask a gay guy.

Danny was heading towards the locker room for practice. I caught him just in time, he smiled at me brightly, just like Danny would. He was probably the most decent guy I know, probably the only decent guy in school and of course he had the unfortunate problem of liking the same sex as I did.

"Danny!" I called.

"Hey Lydia, how are you?" He grinned.

"Good. So I have a question for you-"  
"No, I don't know what's going on with Jackson." He frowned a bit.

"No, that's not-" I started. "Wait is he okay?"

Danny shrugged. He cared so much about Jackson, everyone knew that.

I sighed, "My question actually, was will you go to that stupid dance with me?"

"Wait, really?" He furrowed his brows.  
I nodded.

"Oh, I thought you were-"

"Were what?"

"Nothing." He shook his head.

"What?" I demanded.

"I thought you would have asked Stilinski."

"God no." I acted shocked. But I sort of was. "Why?"

"I saw you two at Roll on Friday. You seemed pretty into him." Danny smirked.

Oh god. He was there. He saw us, he saw us almost-

"Well I am not asking Stiles, I'm asking you. So, are you in?"

"What happened?" He asked. Typical Danny.

"Nothing." I snapped, crossing my arms.

"Someone else ask him?"

"Are you in or not?" I rolled my eyes, my movements faltered.

"Totally." Danny grinned. We high five-d like we often did.

It was Friday afternoon before the dance. Erica begged me to meet her in the chemistry lab, we needed to finish the project when it was still a week away. I could do covalent bonds in my sleep. I didn't really want to see her, I had managed to ignore everyone for the better half of the week. I was black out free and I was feeling good, I knew it was going to be short lived, but hey, I could dream.

"Thank you for meeting me." Erica breathed.

"You made it sound life or death so-" I mumbled, dropping my bag.

"I was thinking, this isn't going to work."

"What's not?" _Your date with Stiles?_ I was hopeful.

"The covalent bonds. I think we should do something different. I think we should relate it to every day life. Like write up a report or something. You know, just to make it better."

I blinked. She read my mind.

I moved closer, we went over all the information we had.  
"What are you thinking?"  
"Humans?"

"Maybe even natural elements."

"What do you mean?" I asked, not following, Atoms were in everything anyway.

"The moon." She whispered.

I never thought of that. I pretty much forgot there was a moon, or a sky for that matter.

"So like oceans and tides and stuff."

"Sure." Her voice was strained, like something was better in her head.

I really didn't care.

"Can we just do it next week? I need to get home."

"Yeah." Erica nodded. "I need to get ready for the dance anyway."

I wanted to growl or scream or do something. But all I did was nod.

"Are you sure you're okay that I'm going with Stiles?"

"Why would you ask me that?"

Erica shrugged, licking her lips.

"Because he's been in love with you since before he knew what love was."

I looked away.

"And because I know you have to feel something for him too."

I narrowed my eyes, "Then why would you ask him?"

"Because I feel something for him too, Lydia. Because I saw him when you didn't." Erica said.

"It's not fair that it took you forever to notice that he is an amazing guy. It took you so long, and I've known. I've known how great he is, and he couldn't notice me, because you were in the way."

"He's noticed you now." I retorted.  
"Yeah, but look what had to happen." She looked herself up and down.

But part of me didn't believe she was talking about her looks.

"You only notice him now because your weak and vulnerable."

Having someone else say what your thinking sucks.

"No I'm not."

"Why did you ask Derek about his uncle?"

I knew she was friends with him, but I didn't think they'd talk.

"Answer me?" She snapped.

"Why were you walking in the woods at five in the morning last week?" I battled.

She looked at me.

"Yeah, I can ask questions too, doesn't mean either of us are going to get an answer."

I went to leave but she pulled me back. She was stronger than I could have expected.

"I was following you." She answered.

_First truth I got all year. _

"I was making sure you were okay."

"What?"

"I know about your nightmares, I know that you sleepwalk to the woods and you hang out in the old Hale place. I know that you can't control this."

"How?"  
Her eyes dodged me. She started to pull away.  
"No. Now you have to tell me."

"Stiles." She whispered. "Stiles told me."

Stiles knew? Stiles knew that these things were happening to me and didn't do anything to help?

This was a whole knew version of betrayal.

"Wow." I whispered. Shaking her off.  
"No, you don't understand."

"I don't care." I yelled.

"Yes you do." She countered.

"Stiles knew there was something wrong with you, and he asked me to keep an eye on you."  
"Why would you do that?"  
"Because I owe him." She answered honestly.

"I saw you go into the woods, I drove your car there. I found you last night too, I brought you home."

The perfume, it was Erica's. My car, I didn't drive it to the forests opening. It was all her.

I looked up, tears had to be in my eyes, she was blurring rapidly.

"I'm sorry your friends are lying to you Lydia. But it's to protect you, it's because you don't understand what's going on, or what's happening. You are in so much danger it's crazy and I'm trying to help you."

I looked away.

"I see him." I cleared my throat. "I see him in my nightmares."

"Who?" She whispered.

"Peter Hale."

All dances are the same, I concluded while Danny and I walked into the gym. Decorations, punch bowl, everything. I didn't even want to come here, since my last lovely run in that left me hospitalized for weeks. I just wanted to go home, but I didn't want to disappoint Danny who actually looked like he was enjoying himself, and I wanted to see Stiles and Erica, to see if he was_ really _happy coming to this with her, of course it had to be better than the dance he went to with me. I was such a crappy date.

I spotted Allison with camera boy. I was surprised, I didn't think she'd come with Scott, but him? Can't she see him drooling all over her? Its disgusting. Was Scott even here? Danny ditched me, meeting up with some Lacrosse players, and then I spotted him. Scott too. They were standing off to the side, Stiles was going on and on about something and Scott was watching Allison dance with camera kid. _Typical._

Erica wasn't near them, and I felt sort of hopeful. But I ignored that. I was pissed at him, beyond pissed. He knew that I was scared and vulnerable and a complete mess and he sent Erica to do the dirty work?Why? It wasn't like we were even remotely friends, it wasn't like she gave a damn about me. But she gave a damn about him. I took a deep breath, and went to sit at a table before I did anything drastic.

It was there that I remembered Stiles' speech about crushing on me since the third grade. Knowing who I really was, in every single way telling me he was better than Jackson, that he would always be better than Jackson. Was he even here? Danny would have told me. I saw Danny talking to camera guy, wait- does he? I smiled to myself. Typical Danny. I felt someone sit next to me.

"Hey."

"Hi." I looked up quickly.

"Lydia, I miss you."

I sighed, tapping my nails on the table.

"I am so sorry about the other day, I am sorry I couldn't tell you."

"It doesn't matter anymore Allison."

"Yes it does!"

She looked so sad, so vulnerable right now. But I couldn't find it in me to forgive her.

That was a lie, I concluded while looking away from her.

She was already forgiven and I seriously couldn't figure out why.

"You have every right to be mad at me, I know that. But I need my friend back."

I bit my inner cheek. She needed me. Well what about me needing her? Did she forget that?

"Whatever, thanks for the bagel by the way."

"What bagel?"

"The one you had Stiles give me Tuesday. I would have thanked you sooner but-"

"I never got you a bagel. Good idea though, we all know how much you like them."

I blinked. Crap.

It was about a half hour later when I finally saw them together. She had her arms wrapped tight around his neck and he held her by the waist. It sort of looked like the other day, but she wasn't crying now, and this meant so much more. A song was playing, and I realized it was one of those slow indie songs from that station I listened to, that I still had programed in my car because it reminded me of him.

Erica looked flawless and I was a little more than jealous. The gold shimmery dress she wore came right above the knee, it hugged her just right and I had a feeling it wasn't a dress you could just buy anywhere, my retail skills were a bit rusty but it wasn't in Macy's online catalog.

He looked content. And maybe I was just trying not to use full on happy because somehow the two meant different things, but he did, he looked calm, and handsome, and wanted. And that's what he needed, and that's what he deserved. To be wanted, not just needed, not just tolerated, wanted.

And Erica was giving him that.

Erica was also kissing him.

I have always read about those moments, the ones that everything begins to change, where everything just suddenly makes sense, like the blindfold finally uncovers your eyes and everything is clear. I never actually thought I'd have one of those moments because for the longest time I was under the impression that I had it all figured out, I knew everything, no surprises. Until now. Now I couldn't even tell you right from left, I couldn't' tell you what I had for breakfast or what designer I was wearing.

Seeing Erica kiss Stiles was something I would never have expected if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. It was unpredictable and Stiles was everything but unpredictable. Seeing that, seeing her arms around his neck, his firmly on her middle, embracing each other like it was the most natural thing in the damn world really stirred something inside me. Really made me think about things.

I was jealous, I could say that now.

I could see it now.

It sucked.

Danny found me then, at the most perfect time. He stood next to me, the soft material of his button down on my bare arm. He stood silently, like we were in a movie theater, watching the plot climax.

"Wanna get out of here?" He whispered to me, I barley caught it over the music.

I nodded eagerly.

I missed my chance.

Danny dropped me off, he gave me a hug, telling me it's going to be okay. His eyes were sincere, and honest, and something he couldn't possibly have known how much I needed. This was a scene that we have been through before. A situation that I have relived countless times, Danny comforting me after one of Jackson's mood swings, after Jackson left me at the movies, after Jackson screwed up. Danny was always there to tell me it would get better, that Jackson was just an ass and things would change. Danny was now telling me that Stiles was an ass, that everyone knew how much he liked me, that this was insane. Trust me, I know, I knew that this was insane, that I was insane, but it was even more crazy because I was upset over Stiles freaking Stilinski.

After Danny left I showered, changed and laid in bed ready to fall asleep, wake up and realize this was all a dream. That it wasn't happening and I'd wake up and go back to a time where I had everything figured out.

To say that _wasn't _what happened was an understatement.


	9. Chapter 9

**Bare with me... my mind went a tad overboard. SORRRRRY. **

**OH, and I wanted to say thank you to everyone who keeps commenting and supporting me and being amazing... sorry I haven't had time to say thank you personally like normal, but seriously, Thank you all!**

I woke up in a staggering daze. The wind was loud, my body was aching, the ground was cold and hard. I breathed in dirt, dust and grass. I choked on it. I was smothered in it. My body was coated with a sheen of lukewarm sweat and as I turned over my heartbeat radiated off every fiber in my body, making me pulse like a stereo speaker.

I swallowed down that dirt while turning over. My eyes were open, they had to be open but all I could see was darkness. It was everywhere, it consumed me. I felt my synapses all connecting, every nerve ending in my body screaming at me, it was telling me something, it was fear. I had something to fear in this dark nothingness and even though I couldn't see it, or even sense it yet, I knew exactly what it was.

_Who_ it was.

I brought myself into a sitting position the dark bottomless ground was sticky with what I imagined to be warm oil, but my mind kept screaming blood. I heard the air around me circulate, like being pushed in different directions, almost like the beating of wings. Like a bird was hovering. But I couldn't imagine any living thing here in the dark empty abyss that was consuming me, swallowing me up and never letting me go. That was what it felt like. Like giving up.

But why shouldn't I? I have fought hard enough, read every book I could think of reading, researched every single thing there was to research. Nothing helped. God I had to fall in love with Stiles Stilinski just to realize that I had hit rock bottom. Maybe that's where I was, I've seen that SpongeBob episode. I peaked, I lost my mind, I've definitely lost my perfect GPA, and I lost Stiles to Erica Reyes. What else could possibly go wrong? I wanted to cry, I was sitting in complete blackness probably in the deepest compartment of my mind waiting to be woken up, waiting for face another day.

Though my mind was telling me to be fearful, I wasn't scared, not at all, not until a door slammed and I was met with footsteps. Then, then I was terrified. Eyes that glowed red were all I could see, finally I knew I wasn't blind, they glowed and hovered in the blackness around them, coming right for me. I backed up until I hit a wall, I guess this darkness had a shape.

Stiles, think of Stiles. Lydia please, please just do it. I screamed at myself, but all I could see was red. My heart pounded and it just made the eyes dance closer. I thought of Stiles coming to visit me after the mountain lion attack, I thought of holding him close at formal, I thought of holding his hand skating round and around, I thought of him bringing me a bagel and lying about it. I opened my eyes but nothing happened. I was still here, still in this nightmare with peter Hale coming edging closer and closer. I rapidly blinked to push away tears, but all I could think of is Stiles holding Erica's hand in the hallway, dancing close to her at the dance, kissing her under the cheesy disco ball. I groaned.

It wasn't working!

"Lydia." The venomous voice cooed.

And I shivered, satisfying the monster, since a rich laugh followed.

"What do you want?" I cried into the darkness. Demanded an answer.

I was met with more amused laughter.

"Just leave me alone!" I screamed, holding my ears, trying to make it go away.

"Now, now. Don't cry. I'm not going to hurt you." The voice was closer, the red eyes dancing.

"I told you I had a job for you." He whispered.

Then the lights turned on, like the sound of snapping fingers.

Everything was white, so white and calm it burned.

I shielded my eyes from the light, like I had spent forever in darkness.

He laughed again, Peter laughed and I remembered the blue eyed boy.

"_I'm gonna need that kiss." He whispered innocently. _

I shivered again.

"Oh Lydia, you really are remarkable." He drawled, absentmindedly playing with some of my hair.

I tensed up, but was too scared to move away.

"I am going to need you to do something for me, do you think you're up to it?" His voice soft.

I looked up, was he honestly giving me a choice?

His eyes burned red, scorched.

"You want answers." He frowned, thoughtfully.

I didn't need to nod to give my desire away.

He leaned down, whispering in my ear.

"I can give you answers, Lydia. I can tell you everything."

I shivered again, holding back a gasp.

Peter wiped a tear away with the pad of his thumb. The feeling left me clammy.

Next, nails, thick, dirty ivory colored nails shot from his fingertips, replacing the normal ones.

He examined them for a moment, coiling his claws together, looking animal like.

"Say the word, Lydia. Say the word and I will show you everything."

I gulped, my throat drier than it had ever been.

This was what I wanted, what I needed.

"Yes." I whispered, my voice cracking painfully.

Then he smiled, the red deepening in color.

The nails he had been examining, the nails I had been examining came closer to me, swiftly digging into the skin on the base of my neck. Inserting themselves into me. I gasped at the contact.

Then the visions came.

I saw me, in my winter formal dress. I saw Stiles and I dancing, and me leaving. I saw the lacrosse field, the lights as bright as the room I was in. I was calling for Jackson, Stiles was screaming for me to run as he himself rushed to me, his feet pounding against the cold earth beneath him. Then I saw Peter, rows of sharp teeth coming towards me. The same teeth and body from that night trapped in the school, the same monster from the night in the video store. Next I was bloody on the ground, Peter Hale hovering over me, territorial, a predator. Stiles begging to spare my life. Stiles scared, more scared than I had ever seen him. Stiles telling Peter to kill him. Stiles never wanting to leave me.

Stiles _protecting_ me.

Next there is Scott and Allison, I see hair, and sharp teeth and glowing yellow eyes. Scott isn't human, Scott's a wolf. Allison is kissing him. Derek, he's there too, Derek is a wolf also. Derek kills Peter. Jackson and Stiles are there, so is Allison's father. They are staring at Peter's dead, bloody body.

Stiles and Scott in a hospital room, my hospital room. They are checking me, seeing if I'm turning. Next I saw Erica, and Issac and that quiet boy Boyd. They're werewolves too. Erica is a werewolf. They became beautiful, and strong, and supernatural. I saw scales, a paralyzing tail, fear in everyone's eyes. I saw Stiles yelling at Scott, telling him it wasn't me, I wasn't the monster. Issac and Erica, they are trying to poison me in chemistry. Allison and Stiles rush me to Scott's. Jackson talking to me, Jackson kissing me, Jackson turning into what they all thought I was. Jackson's the monster. The monster Allison asked me to translate. The monster that ruined the library. Jackson. Allison. Scott. Stiles. All of them, they knew, they tried to protect me, they fought for me. They were all in this.

Scott isn't human.

Stiles isn't as passive as I thought.

Allison is a hunter who fell in love.

Jackson is now as hideous as he is on the inside.

Nothing makes sense.

Everything is in the open.

I came to, blinking rapidly. I had a terrible taste in my mouth, my head was pounding. I quickly sat up, searching the back of my neck for the nails, I could still feel them inside me. Like Peter was in me. I felt exposed and powerless. I looked around, he was sitting in a black velvet chair I had never seen. He was staring at something, a mirror? This was one of the weirdest dreams.

I sighed and tried to stand.  
"Don't." Peter demanded.

"It is better if you sit still for a while. It may be too much for you."

I slumped back down. Completely drained.

"Lydia do you understand what you just saw?"

I shook my head, tears coming back to my eyes.

"Your friends, they lied. Lied about so much, so many important things."

I sighed, shakily.

"What are we going to do about that?" He asked, close to my ear again.

I sniffed, tensing up.

"Lydia, I am going to need you to do something for me now."

I closed my eyes, trying not to shake.

"I need one thing, it really isn't that hard, I just need my nephew's blood."

His blood? Derek's blood?

My eyes snapped open, and I looked right into his eyes, so red, filled with blood, with anger.

"Why?" I whispered.

"I need to make things right. Derek took from me, and I want back what's mine."

I started to shake my head.  
"Lydia, Lydia, you will do this for me."

His eyes were threatening

"Or I will take from you."

My brows furrowed. He had taken everything from me, what else was left?

"Stiles Stilinski." He hummed. "I can practically _smell_ your desire for him."

My blood ran cold.

"If you don't get me Derek's blood I will kill him." He was sincerity.

"It be a pity, he has so much potential."  
"You wouldn't. You're dead. You're not real!" I screamed.

He smiled at me, mocking me.

"I am your fears Lydia. You can't get rid of me just yet."

And then I woke up to a pounding at my door.

I jumped up quickly and unlocked it, throwing the door open, not caring much who was behind it.

Stiles was looking at me, he had a face mixed of confusion and sorrow. I didn't care what he had done to me, what he had kept from me, lied about. I didn't care that he kissed Erica tonight, I didn't care about anything. I jumped into his arms and was surprised to find that he could support me so well.

"Hey" He whispered, rubbing my back. "Calm down, I'm here."

Those words were too good to hear.

He carried me to my bed, not like he had much of a choice. I wouldn't move my arms from around his neck, I wouldn't let go of him, I had done that too much and after that last dream, that nightmare, I never wanted to let him go. I couldn't let him die. He meant too much, to so many people.

He meant too much to me.

"Lydia, talk to me." He breathed as he tucked me back into my bed as if I was a child.

"Stiles, please." I whimpered like a baby and I hated it.

But at the moment I really didn't know what else to say, how else to say it.

The cold feeling hadn't left me. I could feel Peter's red eyes watching.

"Go back to sleep, it's okay." He whispered. Trying to comfort me.

"No!" I snapped. Sure I was tired, but I didn't care.

Stiles was still in his shirt in tie from the dance. What time was it? How long had I been out?

"Stay with me." I whispered and shock molted over in his eyes.

He climbed into my bed after asking at least five times if I was sure. He kicked off his shoes and crawled under the covers. I immediately clung to him and I think no matter how worried he was, he was enjoying this a little too much. He wrapped his arm around me and I pressed my head against his chest. It seemed so simple, something so many people had done. But it was anything but right now. It was intimate and golden and the best thing I needed. I had admitted it after all hadn't I? I loved him.

I loved everything about him. His compassion, his quirky humor, everything that I had always ignored, everything I never wanted to see was now right here, laying beneath me, a strong heart beating, every thump telling me he was real, he was here and it was okay.

"Why did you come here?" I whispered.

"What?" He asked just as softly.

"Why are you here, with me and not still making out with Erica?"

"You saw that?" He was grimacing, I knew it.

"Yeah." I mumbled.

He sighed. "I'm sorry. Really, Lydia."  
"Do you like her?" I whispered after a few seconds of silence. I fingered the buttons on his shirt.

"I really don't know what I feel." He answered.

"She's one of the good ones." I mumbled. Because she was, because she probably saved my life.

"Lets not talk about her, okay?" I nodded into his shirt.

"Stiles-" I mumbled.

"hm?" He hummed back, quietly.

"I know, Stiles. I know about everything."

He stirred. So did I.

We were sitting up now, facing each other, in my bed.

"What are you talking about Lydia?"

"I know that Scott is a werewolf. I know that Derek Hale is one too."

His eyes widened.

"I know that he turned Erica and Issac, and that you all knew about this."

Stiles licked his lips.

"I know that Jackson is the Kanima and that you guys don't play for an online gaming sight."

He made a noise that sounded like a muffled laugh.

"Then why did you let me in here? If you know, why aren't you freaking out at me."

I looked down, he had a good point. But he wasn't denying anything so that gave me some faith.

"I know because, because I also know that you were there when Peter Hale attacked me, that you told him to kill you instead of leaving me. Because you waited outside my hospital room for days and because you asked Erica to keep an eye on be because you knew something was wrong."

I grabbed his hand, so soft and big in mine.

"How, Lydia? How do you know these things?"

"You wouldn't believe me."

"I believe in werewolves, and werewolf hunters and lizards that play lacrosse. Trust me."

His gaze was intense, his face set in stone.

"I know this because for the past couple of months I have been seeing Peter Hale in my nightmares and he is pretty much trying to make my life a living hell. Oh, and he is in desperate need of a shower."

Stiles' face went white.

That was the reaction I was going for.

"Stiles, Stiles, seriously? Stiles, where are we going?" I demanded.

I was being dragged out of the jeep, after being dragged out of my house.

"We are going to see Scott." He answered.

I looked out the passenger door, the one Stiles had opened for me. This wasn't the McCall house.

"Here." He mumbled, throwing a black hoodie my way. I caught it, quickly pulling it on. Stiles made me leave my house so quick I was lucky I put on shoes.

We were outside an abandoned building, one where they keep old cargo cars for trains and other large unused transportation devices. Stiles grabbed my hand and I had little time to relish in it. He opened the large door, pulled me inside and slammed it.

"Scott!" He called.

We were met with silence. He walked me further into the darkly lit arena of sort. The air was musty and dust was everywhere. I moved closer to him, the place feeling a lot like my nightmares.

"Stiles?" Scott called.

"What the hell is she doing here?" Came Derek's question.

Derek Hale. Peter wanted his blood. Peter wanted me to get it for him.

I looked up at Stiles, he wore a rather bored look. He didn't give into this strong Derek.

I stood taller, if Stiles wasn't scared, why should I be?

Oh yeah, because he was a freaking werewolf.

"Stiles, why did you bring Lydia?"

"Lydia is here?" A feminine voice growled.

"Easy there tiger." Stiles smirked at her, standing in front of me.

For some reason, this felt heavily like taking sides. I looked down.

Erica crossed her arms and stood next to Derek.

"We need to talk." Stiles sighed, scratching the back of his neck, before looking behind him, looking at me.

So Stiles told the wolves- could I call them that? I really didn't know if I could think of them as just regular people anymore, except maybe Scott, he was still the same, still had the same dumbfounded look in his eyes too. God. Really, what did Allison see in him? I sighed, enough not to kill him and lie to her family. I missed her now more than ever. I really wished she was here too.

"I told you. I told you Derek. This is serious!" Erica glared.

"Wait, you knew? And you didn't say anything?"

"I didn't know how to handle it Stiles." Derek growled.

"Why did you tell Erica?" Scott questioned.

I looked down.

"Erica, why didn't you tell me?" Stiles asked, completely baffled.

"Sue me that I wanted to have one normal date with you without Lydia being all you thought about."

Stiles rolled his eyes, I sighed.

"He- He wants me to do something." I spoke up, not wanting to cause any more fighting amongst them. Though I had a feeling this was heavily how they got things done around here.

"What? What did he tell you?"  
"Does it really matter? He's dead, you killed him, Derek." Scott yelled.

"I know that." Derek spat. "But-" His voice died out.

"What did he say?" Stiles asked again.

"He told me that I needed to get him something, Derek- Derek's blood."

"Morbid much." Erica sneered.

I closed my eyes, seeing red eyes, red as blood.

"He wants my blood?"

"That's what he said. He said he needed it. That you took something of his." I shrugged.

Talking about Peter Hale made me feel like he was with us, it sent a shiver down my spine.

Derek's eyes lit up, he started pacing before disappearing completely into one of the subway cars.

Stiles looked down at me and shrugged. Scott walked over.

"So you know, about me?" He asked.

I nodded.

"I'm sorry, Allison was right. We should have just told you."

I sighed. "It's okay."

"We won't let him hurt you, okay. I promise. He isn't real."

"Yeah he is, Stiles." I shook my head.

"He dug his nails into my neck and showed me memories."

Scott and I both rubbed our necks at the same time.

"Okay, well whatever, it's not like you're going to get Derek's blood."

I looked away, regrettably towards a still sour Erica.

"What's that look for?" She asked, jumping off a box and walking over.

"What are you talking about?"

"I know that look."

Stiles and Scott looked at me too. I flipped my hair and crossed my arms.

"No clue what you're talking about, Erica."

"Whatever he told you, you can't do that."

I scoffed.  
"Scott! Come here!" Derek yelled from the dark crevice of a subway car.

Erica's eyes never left me. Stiles followed Scott, not at all invited.

"What is is?" She asked.

"I-I can't-" I looked away.

"Lydia. He's evil."

"You think I don't know that?" I snapped.

"Then what is it." She asked. "I can smell the uncertainty."

"You can do that?" I asked, scratching my forehead, deep in thought.

"Yeah. So spill." She demanded, all arched eyebrows and crazy eyes.

"He threatened me." I whispered. I could see the outline of Stiles' silhouette from the overhead lighting.

"He threatened to kill Stiles." I shrugged. "I don't know what to do."

Erica tensed up, I swear she was about to snarl.

"Stiles?" She growled. There was a biting edge to her voice, a territorial edge.

I didn't like it, but then again I didn't like this situation.

The next few hours sort of went as a blur. All I wanted to do was sleep but I was so worried that if I did, I would get sent back into my nightmares, back to Peter, back to hell. Stiles had stuck close by me, but seemed distant. Erica told him, as soon as he came out of the car with Derek and Scott. She told him like I knew she would. She didn't trust me, and could I really blame her for that? She didn't want anything to happen to Stiles, probably more than I didn't. She rushed through pages of older then time books, I was surprised and a bit envious of her delicacy, her being so forceful.

"Will someone please tell me what's happening?" A panicked Allison ran through the door.

"Allison!" I yelled, jumping up and running to hug her.

Nothing mattered, her keeping things from me, it wasn't a big deal anymore. She had her own problems, she needed a friend and I ignored it, I acted like it was all about me, and I was so sorry.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." I mumbled into her sweater.

"Lydia? What is going on?" She asked, her told tight on me.

"She knows." Scott said, solemnly. I let go of her and she ran to him.

"You were right, I'm sorry." He mumbled between kissing her.

"No, you guys were right." I sighed, feeling Stiles' arm wrap tight around me.

"No, Lydia, we should have told you." Allison frowned.

"Yeah, especially with all the stuff dead alpha is doing." Stiles scoffed.

"Dead alpha?" Allison mimicked. "Peter Hale?" She looked right at Scott.

"We have a lot to fill you in on." Scott sighed.

"I found something!" Erica yelped. Her eyes blazing, the harsh lighting doing nothing for my nerves.

Derek swiftly moved towards her, taking the large, leather bound book from her strong grasp.

"Jeez Derek, where the hell did you find that?" Stiles asked, walking over.

"Is that right?" Erica asked at Stiles' side.

Derek ignored everyone around him, his eyes moved quickly, darting to me.

"Is what right?" Stiles asked, his voice growing with annoyance.

Derek Hale's eyes, so smoldering held mine possessively, boring into me.

I had to gasp at the intensity of it all.

He slammed the book on the table, loosening the connection, making everyone in the room jump.

"Damn it." He growled under his breath.

"What is it?" Scott asked.

Stiles moved towards it, reading quickly. His eyes widening. "No way." He whispered.

"I should have saw it. How could he..." Derek trailed off, in his own thoughts.

"Will someone please say something less vague?" Allison asked, Scott's hand tight in hers.

"It's wrong." Stiles shook his head, walking in front of Derek's view of me. "He's wrong."

"I highly doubt that." Erica mumbled, arms crossed, eyes intense.

Stiles laughed and walked over to me.

"He's got the wrong girl, Lydia isn't-" He looked at me "She can't be-" His voice fell soft.

"She wasn't affected from the bite, she wasn't paralyzed by the poison." Derek rubbed his chin.

"She can see a dead werewolf when she falls asleep." Erica muttered walking closer to Stiles.

Stiles shook his head, looking back at me.

"Lydia, to put this gently, you're a witch." Erica sneered. A large smile on her face.


	10. Chapter 10

"Erica, shut up. You don't know anything." Stiles spat at her.

_A... what?_

"Why are you acting like this? What am I not the right kind of monster for you?"

Ah, quoting Twilight I see.. _but seriously, did she just call me a-_

"Erica, this isn't about us!"

"Oh, so is there an us?"

"Erica!" Stiles growled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"No!" She snarled. "We kissed. I'm not going to ignore that."

Stiles sighed. "I'm not ignoring it, Erica. There is just something more important right now."

Erica laughed, no amusement to her eyes. "It just so conveniently has to do with her."

And with that, she walked away.

A witch? A _freaking_ witch?

Like the spell casting, black cat having, a warty nose witch.

I rubbed my nose, completely smooth. It sent a little relief through me.

"I'm not a-" I started, dizzy. "I-I mean, I would know if I was a-"

I couldn't conclude a sentence. Nothing made sense.

Too much had happened today, too much to take in.

"The Bestiary talks of witches." Allison sighed.

"It does?" Scott gaped.

Allison nodded, looking at me, only at me.

"It was one word, _Lamia,_ it kept coming up in a section." She had a hand on her forehead.

"I didn't think anything of it." Allison was shaking.

"Do you know what it said?" Stiles asked, pleaded.

Allison looked at Stiles who moved closer to her, he had a hand on her arm, he was rubbing circles into her sweater. Trying to calm her down, trying to make her breathe.

She nodded harshly.

"The _Lamia_ is the _rememdium_, the cure." She whispered.

I was a cure, a cure to _what_?

"What the hell does that mean?" Stiles groaned.

"Witches have been used for centuries to fix supernatural problems." Derek explained.

He walked back into the empty space with another large text, this one even older.

"Seriously, man, where are you getting these things from?" Stiles combed a hand through his hair.

I nudged Stiles roughly in the stomach and smiled when he grunted.

Derek smirked before turning his attention back to the book.

"Peter wants you to mix our blood, it's something I only thought was a myth."

"Really? A myth?" Stiles scoffed. "You're a werewolf!"

Derek ignored him, continuing.

"Mixing our blood will bind us, it will make us equal." He sighed.

"If it works, he can come back and kill me."

"Kill you?" Allison mumbled weakly.

"There's a chance he could overpower me then."

There was something I didn't like about his eyes, like he was imagining just that happening.

"So we kill him first." Scott declared.

Allison shook her head, looking towards the cold ground.

"Scott, he's already dead." Stiles glared. "How can we kill a dead guy?"

Everyone looked to Derek, he seemed to be the one with all the answers, but looking at the older werwolf now just made me realize how alone and over his head he really was. He had no clue what he was doing and I felt somewhat bad for him. I doubt he asked for this either.

"Cut out his heart." I croaked. I had no idea where it came from.

There was no cynical bite to it that I knew would come out of Stiles' mouth if he had the chance.

Something in me just knew.

"He's dead, Lydia. What's that going to do?" Scott asked, waiting for appeasement.

I sighed. "I don't know!" I snapped. "Think of a better idea." I threw my hands up.

"No, no." Stiles mumbled, "I read something about that!"

"Google again?" Derek quipped.

Stiles' eyes narrowed.

"No, you either cut off a werewolves head or tear out his heart to kill him."

"But since he's already dead-" I started.  
"Then taking out his heart would take away-" Stiles paused, searching for a word.  
"His soul, I guess." His eyes stared into mine. I smiled. This teamwork thing, it _could _work.

"This sounds fun, really guys it does. But how the hell are we going to do that?"

Erica's voice came from the shadows, it was dark and angry.

"We'll think of a way." Stiles shrugged. "Derek, where is the body."

"Under the Hale house." I answered for him, it's where my mind kept sending me to.

Where _he_ kept sending me to. It had to be there.

"Real-lyyyy" Stiles exaggerated.

Derek clenched his jaw.

Before anyone else could say anything there was a crash, the large door smashing into its locks and footsteps pounding the cement below us, it shook everything. Out of the dim lighting came Issac and the larger than life Boyd who I never actually spoke to before. He started at everyone, surprised.

"Derek, we found him." Issac panted.

"Where?" He demanded.

"Jackson?" Scott questioned.

"Yeah. He's human at the moment and shooting lacrosse balls on the field at school."

"I don't know how much time we have, we should go now-" Boyd's deep voice rang.

Derek nodded, shutting the old book and leading the way out.

"Scott, you come with me. Erica, you stay here with them, figure out a way to do this."

Erica nodded, already at the table opening books again. Stiles ran over immediately helping her.

"Do not do anything until I get back." He growled, then left. Scott, Issac and Boyd in tow.

I smiled weakly at Allison who still had her eyes planted on the spot Scott left from. I could see how much this bothered her, not Scott being a werewolf, just Scott putting himself in danger.

"I have to call my dad, tell him I'm at your house. I left so fast he's probably thinking the worse."

I nodded at her as she walked away. Sighing, I turned around, watching them search through books.

_Wolf and human. _

_Girl and boy. _

_Erica and Stiles. _

They had this sort of connection that I envied. They had fought several times tonight, all over me, and here they were, side by side working together, trying their hardest to figure it all out. I sighed. Why didn't I see how great he was? Erica did, and she would never let me forget that. She would never, ever let me live it down if he chooses me over her. I'm not even worthy. I thought we shared at least one thing, I had thought of it the whole way to this abandoned place. I thought of the fact that in all this chaos that our lives became, we were both normal, affected, of course, but human. We had that. Above all else. And now, now Erica was telling me I was a witch. I didn't know the first thing about being a witch. Was it like Harry Potter or Hocus Pocus? I sighed rubbing my eyes. I really was tired. I sat and watched from this huge black chest as they muttered to each other, their eyes barley leaving the ancient pages they were reading. Stiles looked so invested, Erica, satisfyingly challenged. They were enjoying this? I covered my face with my hand. A nap wouldn't kill me.

I yawned and used Stiles' hoodie as a pillow, letting my eyes slip closed and darkness to consume me.

"I'm waiting Lydia." He hissed.

"This isn't going to work. You're not going to get what you want."

He laughed, musically.

"You think you're smarter than me? You are a sixteen year old girl." He spat.

"Maybe, but you need me."

He grimaced.

"You need a witch, what makes you think I can even do it?"

"Every witch knows what to do given the proper context. I have no doubt that you'd do the same."

He smiled coyly.

"You're a bright girl."

"I am a witch then?"

"You tell me?" He breathed and I shivered, immediately jumping up, out of sleep.

I couldn't be a witch. I just couldn't.

Stiles had sat next to me again. Peter was in my dreams, he was waiting behind my eyes. I couldn't go back there, I couldn't fall asleep. Stiles smiled weakly at me, he looked exhausted himself.

"Take a nap." I whispered.

"And miss all the fun?" He teased. "I'm good, but you should."

I shook my head. "No. He's waiting for me."

"He can't hurt you Lydia."

"I did a lot of research on minds and dreams these last few weeks Stiles, our minds are way stronger and vivid than we could even possibly fathom. I'm not sleeping until this is over."

Stiles smiled at me. Looking down first, he reached over and grabbed my hand.

"Then lets go kill a dead werewolf." He grinned, giving my hand a squeeze.

"This! This is it!" Stiles exclaimed, his voice seething with pride.

"What?" Allison stood next to him, reading the section he pointed to.

"A laced silver sword?" Allison asked skeptically. "Stiles, this isn't a movie!"

"Does this book look like a script, Allison?" He narrowed his eyes at her.  
"Guys, I've seen that." Erica pointed to something on the page.

"Really?" Stiles' eyes lit up.

"Where?" Allison scoffed.

"Derek has it." She mumbled quietly.

I covered my face with my hands and groaned. We were in over our heads and that takes a lot for me to say. I liked a challenge as much as the next girl, but this was insane. I didn't believe in this stuff. I believed in science and equations and the mall! I didn't believe in werwolves playing lacrosse and my ex boyfriend turning into a huge reptile, and I did not believe in witches or that there was even a sliver of a chance that I was one. Please. But it was real, because Scott was a werewolf and I was channeling a dead one... for god sake I was fighting one over Stiles Stilinski, if this wasn't the craziest dream I ever had, I honestly don't know anything. I watched the three of them hovering over the large leather book, they were giving everything they had for this because they did believe in it, and they were trying to save me, well, along with the rest of Beacon Hills. I thought about everything that I had read, everything I researched, everything that has lead me here, to right now watching my friends...and Erica seriously sit and fight about a big knife. At least I knew I wasn't crazy right? But I'm not sure if I would rather want to be crazy or be a freaking witch. Right now, I couldn't decided what was worse.

"Lydia!" Stiles called. I jumped at his voice.

"Do you think this would work?" He asked, shoving the book into my face.

I pushed it away harshly, glaring. "Sorry." He muttered sheepishly.

I licked my lips and sighed, looking at the hand drawn dagger on the yellowed page.

"How am I supposed to know if it will work, Stiles?" I snapped.

"Someone's cranky." Erica snickered.

Stiles didn't even look phased. He held the book up a little higher and smiled at me.

"Just think, really hard, Lydia." He was so sincere, so hopeful. I couldn't let him down.

I thought about that book on witchcraft I mocked in the library, the day I overhead Stiles and Erica talking. I thought of every weird word, odd notion, pathetically random sentence in that book. I didn't even know why we would have that in a school library, but I thought about it, herbs were what I noticed most on the pages, different spices and plants that seemed more appropriate for a vegan cook book. But there was a page, one that talked of weapons. Why would a witch need a weapon when they had magical powers, I remember wondering and laughing at it's inaccuracy when I knew next to little about what a witch even could do. I didn't even believe in them, I still don't know if I can. But there was a knife, it looked nothing like the one before me, but I suppose it was up to interpretation. The one I saw was smooth and sharp, it didn't look like the jagged thing in front of my face, the one in the witch book looked good and this one just looked evil. Definitely up to interpretation.

I could barley get a nod out before the door smashed open again and they all came flooding in, looking much different than before they left.

"Scott!" Allison yelled, running to him.

I smiled, despite the tension in the room. They were in love, and I wanted that.

I fought the urge to look at Stiles when I thought that, mostly because he wasn't looking at me.

"What happened?"

"He's insane. I swear to god I am going to kill him the next time-" Derek growled.

He had this look of murder in his eyes, and I knew he was one hundred percent serious.

"Derek-"

"No Scott!" He bellowed. Derek walked away, smearing blood on his face while he tried to wipe his eye. The room was silent. Erica had walked over to the two other boys asking them quietly if they were okay. Boyd nodded and clapped her on the shoulder. They were all fine, except for Derek. He was the worst. His shirt was ripped and bloody, nail marks, most likely and grass stains on his large hands.

"He's getting even stronger." Issac groaned.

"This friendly game of catch isn't going to work much longer."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "I would love him dead as much as you but we can't do that."

I looked at Stiles, he wanted Jackson dead? Sure he wasn't making their lives easier but, it was Jackson.

"Stiles is right." Scott yelled. "We're not killing him. We'll find a way to-"  
"When Scott?" Derek demanded. "If you haven't noticed we have a lot to take care of."

He pinched his bridge.

"What did you guys find?"

"Give us your bad ass sword that you probably keep in your sock drawer and we'll be good."

Stiles grinned, walking over to Derek with Erica.

"What sword?"

"The one that I've seen in that chest." Erica answered. "The book says that we need to use that."

"Why do you even have that?" Stiles asked.

"It was my Aunts, she was human. It was just in case any one of us.." Derek's voice died out.

I looked away. My eyes landing on the floor where a small pool of blood laid abandoned. Blood, Derek's blood. There was an unnerving feeling within me, a voice that was not mine telling me to get it. Telling me to get it and run. I had to fight that voice, right? I couldn't do that. I wasn't going to let some evil zombie werewolf resurrect and kill everyone I care about. But he'd kill Stiles if I didn't.

I looked back, everyone now crowding around the chest Erica was talking about, the one I had been sleeping on. I dug through the pockets of Stiles' hoddie and found a water bottle cap. Convenient, I thought. I quickly scraped the plastic cap on the ground in the blackening pool of blood and ran as fast as I could from that place. The thing was, I don't think I had any control of it. I didn't want to actually do it. But Stiles, his face was all I could see, Peter was making me see. He was smiling at me, about to kiss me, and then he was pale, fear in his eyes, then he was bloody on the ground, his throat slashed.

I blinked it all away as I ran through the darkness and street lamps, racing back to the woods.

"Damn it, I'm coming." I hissed to the wind, though I knew he could hear me.

By the time I had reached the woods my lungs felt like they were about to explode. I gasped for air, panting and ignoring the sharp pain that followed. I was here, finally. I crept towards the house, even bigger and mysterious at night and opened the door, it creaked loudly like any good horror movie. I rolled my eyes and walked in.

"Hello?" I called.

"Come." The eery voice hissed. I followed silently.

I was back in that large room, I suppose was once the living room. The fireplace was chard and useless, the floorboards splintered and dusty. I remembered the house from my nightmares, before the fire, before the terrible things that happened. It was beautiful, and I wanted to imagine that now, but I couldn't not with his voice in my head, not when I had a job to do.

"I brought it, now what?" I yelled, aggravated.

"Close your eyes."

I took a deep breathe and licked my lips.

Then I did as I was told.

The house was restored, and beautiful and even though I was still in a nightmare with a monster, it made me feel a little better. Anything was better than that all consuming blackness.

"Lydia." Peter cooed.

I walked over to that black velvet chair.

"Did you bring what I asked for?" But he knew I did.

I sighed and pulled my hand out of the pocket, my thumb stoppering the top.

"Hope it's enough." I sneered.

Peter smiled and I jumped, ready to see fangs.

"Here." I pushed the little plastic cap at him, wanting to be rid of it.

He stood quickly, surprisingly fast.

My brows furrowed.

"_Lydia! Lydia!"_

"It must be boiled." He cleared his throat, eyes landing on the blood.

"Boiled?" I asked lamely. This was insane.

"Yes." He hissed, moving out of the way for me to see a small table. Besides for the chair and fireplace, it was the only other thing in the whiteness. I sighed and walked over to it. On the table was a Bunsen burner, flasks and a small white bowl filled with a crushed green herb, purple seeds sprinkled into the mixture. I sighed and looked up at him. His face gave away nothing. I felt like I was back in chemistry class, Harris watching me like a Hawks. I placed the plastic cap down, my thumb coming off the top with a pop. A ring of dark blood circled the pad of my finger and I quickly wiped it off on my pants.

"Boil the blood and you will know the rest." He was even and vague.

"_Lydia!" _

I did not know the rest, how the hell was I supposed to? He disappeared after I started the fire, tapping the cap until all the blood I had collected drained into the glass flask I tried to take deep breaths, appear calmer than I really was. Why was I here? Why didn't I just fight that voice? Why wasn't I still with Stiles holding his hand and letting him tell me it would all be alright? The blood was steaming and it left this metallic stench to the room, it made my stomach lurch and my hands shake. I had to get out of here, I had to think of Stiles. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine a good memory, but the fumes of Derek's blood polluted my mind, it started to turn black in it's flask, not just dark, but black, like the night sky, like my nightmares, like the burnt house I knew I was still in. the amount of it increased too, bubbling over, spilling and steaming. I gasped, moving as far away as I could from it.

I heard a crash and a snarl.

"W-what's happening?" I panicked.

Peter was eying me, I felt it. I took my eyes off the black ooze and regretted it.

_Stiles. _He had Stiles, his claw of a hand covering his mouth, his eyes explaining all the fear he had. I looked at him, helplessly. What the hell was I going to do.

"I am doing what you asked!" I screamed at Peter, irritated and worried. My eyes wouldn't leave him.

"This is just a precaution, Lydia. Now, finish."

"I don't know how!"

"_Lydia! Come on! Lydia!" _

"Of course you do."

I shook my head harshly watching as the room started to splatter with the black liquid.

"No, I-I don't. Please don't hurt him!"

Peter laughed, his blood red eyes dancing.

"He's expendable." Peter mentioned while a sharp finger traced his neck.

"No, he's not. He's, He's-" I looked at Stiles, he was breathing hard.

"I love him, okay. I love him, and I'm not a witch and we're supposed to be normal."

I yelled at the werewolf. He looked amused and I'd give anything to wipe that off his face.

I looked down, at the black bubbling liquid and grabbed for it before I even knew what I was doing.

I threw it, the flask landed at his feet with a shattering sound. Thick, clogged steam rose up around him, Stiles smothered by it.

"Oh god." I whispered, rushing towards it, letting it consume me.

I heard Peter's growls, his angry, and painful cries. I tried to ignore them.

"NO.." I heard his cry, and Stiles' strained breathes. "No" He yelled again.

"_Lydia, wake up, you're killing him!" _

My eyes opened then, gasping like I had been swimming to the surface for air. I blinked, past the tears and darkness I saw Stiles, I felt his hands on my wrists trying to pry me off. I felt his pulse jump beneath my hands the ones coiled around his neck. Oh god. I let go instantly, cowering away from him, as far away as I could. Oh god, what the hell did I do? Stiles coughed, rubbing his neck. Scott rushed towards him, Allison to me. Erica came into view, a large silver item in her hand, dead weight. She was panting too, and then with a loud clatter, dropped the sword. I closed my eyes. She did it. She cut his heart out, just like Erica would. When my eyes reopened I saw her at Stiles' side, his head in her lap. He smiled up at her weakly, swatting away her hands. She looked so concerned, was he okay?

"What the hell was that Lydia?" Allison asked, her voice was hard, but scared.

I looked up at her, away from a recovering Stiles and shrugged. "I don't know."

I looked back at him, and he looked at me.

He was okay.


	11. Chapter 11

**So, I think what I have learned from writing this is that I am really not that good at multi-chapter stories... it could have been so much better, and I am sorry. But thank you all for your support... and if it alright with all of you wonderful people, I'm going to stick to one shots for a while. :) **

"Thanks." I mumbled, ready to jump out of the car.

Allison had drove me back home after everything was settled. Peter Hale's lifeless heart was in the middle of sinking to the bottom of the lake, Derek and his pack went back to find Jackson, part of me was scared for him, the other part knew he needed to be stopped. Scott drove Stiles and his jeep home before meeting up with Derek, Stiles too shook up to drive, I was too shaken to even think of him without feeling utterly terrible. Allison sighed, indicating she wanted to talk.

"Lydia, he's not mad at you." She mumbled once I met her eye.

I glared at her. "I could have killed him Allison."

"You weren't in your right mind, you were being controlled-"

"I'm dangerous. He's probably better off with werewolf Erica." I crossed my arms.

"Is that what you're worried about?" Allison asked softly, a small smile lighting up her face.

"Obviously?" I scoffed.

"Lydia, he was so calm when you were attacking him. Erica offered to chop your head off."

Allison started, grabbing my hand, I flinched. I didn't trust them, I pulled away quickly.

"He kept calling your name, and it finally brought you back."

"Yeah, almost too late." I snapped.

"Peter had him, he told me he'd kill him. Bastard had me ready to do it." I shook my head.

"Lydia, you couldn't have known, it's all going to-"

"I'm tired." I interrupted her.

Allison's eyes looked hurt.

"I'll call you in the morning." I muttered unbuckling my seat belt.

"Or you know, just come strangle me in my sleep." Allison offered, teasingly.

"Ha." I glared. "Hilarious."

I laid in bed for a while thinking. What was I supposed to make out of all this? Was I supposed to believe it? Embrace it? I didn't know if I could look at Erica Reyes and not see gold eyes and sharp teeth again. I didn't know if I would ever feel safe in the same room as Issac, or if I'd feel comfortable being alone with Derek Hale. I couldn't be alone in that, I could not be the only person who was cautious, Allison had Scott to worry about, and Scott was not intimidating , I would never be scared of him, ever. And what was I? Was I truly a witch? Nothing happened when I went into that nightmare with my own personal Freddie Kruger. I didn't do anything fantastical or amazing. I threw a glass of black crap at a dead werewolf who had Stile. I did what I thought I had to, it was purely intuition, not magic. I didn't believe, wouldn't believe in it. I sighed and looked at my ceiling, I was still afraid to fall asleep, but I had nothing to worry about. My hands came to my face, covering my still open eyes. They trembled, shaking. I immediately retracted them. Only an hour before they held Stiles' neck in a iron grip, ready to kill him. I didn't trust myself right now. I was on edge, but why shouldn't I be? I just went through hell, way, way too much for one person to take in one day's time. God, the dance, Danny, Stiles kissing Erica, it all seemed like a lifetime ago, when it was only a few hours before now. It was four in the morning, a new day, a fresh start, and I couldn't feel any better. Maybe when the sun rises I would feel safe, fell like I wasn't living in eternal darkness. My eyes grew heavier and heavier as I thought and thought, I couldn't make my mind stop racing, usually I wouldn't mind it, plenty to think about, I used to say, but now, I didn't think I even knew the meaning of that phrase. I didn't know anything until now. There was this whole other world right around me going on, and I had no clue, for so long. I thought I was smart, probably the smartest person in Beacon Hills, and I couldn't even see what was right in front of me for so damn long. I wanted to scold myself but thought differently. At least, for now. Who honestly believes in supernatural creates being all around us. I mean, it was nice, maybe even a relishing danger in my mind, it be cool to have a vampire boyfriend, or a werewolf best friend who ogled over you. Sure, it seemed hot in theory, but living it, living it was too intense and too much to handle. I did not know how Allison did it for so long. I was still so new to it and already wished I could go back. Way back, like when I first knew my friends were all lying to me, I would ignore it, pretend it didn't matter, take all those pills my mom encouraged and stayed sane, stay in the land of normal.

I turned over, facing my window, I didn't feel safe enough not to. If I did all that, and I knew I wouldn't have, I would never have gotten to see this other side to Stiles, I never would have realized how great he was, I never would have felt the way he made me feel, which was so stark in comparison to Jackson. Stiles made me feel safe, he made it okay to feel vulnerable sometimes, and he never once pushed. With Jackson, I didn't know how to be strong, with Stiles I never felt anything but. And with Stiles, it wasn't like in all those movies I watch, where the girl is always helpless, always leaning on someone else, I was never like that, until Jackson, and Stiles never made me feel like I had to be weak. But right now, I would give anything to feel weak, I'd do anything not to feel like this monster that I know I am. I almost killed Stiles, something a month ago sounded all to appealing, but now it was going to give me different kind of nightmares. How could I do that? I practically verified his and Erica's facebook relationship status. The way she looked at him tonight, as he laid in a heap, it was too intense, too heart wrenching, too much for me. I don't know if I could look at him like that, if I even had it in me to care about someone like that, like the way she cares about him. Maybe this is a good thing, he deserves someone that will make him happy, and she may get that stick out of her ass. This could be good. It was good. It had to be, because I was done. I was sick of feeling like this, with everything Stiles had given me, all the feelings of actual emotion, he also gave me a feeling I never thought I would ever have to feel, I mean like ever. I was never jealous of anybody, not since the seventh grade and Angela Tedesco's chest was bigger than mine. I had never been jealous of a relationship, and what Stiles made me feel before anything else was jealousy. It wasn't me, wasn't my style but even now, I felt myself slightly comparing every attribute I had to Erica crazy eyes Reyes. It was laughable and probably even certifiable. I mean I knew I was better than her, obviously. I controlled that school for years before she was even remotely attractive, but that wasn't what mattered, I was slowly figuring out. Stiles didn't like Erica because she was gorgeous, he liked her because she was strong, because she cared, because she was just like him. How could I compare to that? I couldn't. And he didn't deserve me getting in the way.

"Lydia, sweetheart, wake up." My moms voice was gentle in my ear and so soothing.

"hmm?" I asked groggily. Wait, I was asleep?

I jumped up,startling my mom in the process.

"Lydia?" She asked, amusement.

"Morning." I smiled awkwardly, after a moment.

"Good morning, you have a friend here."

"What time is it?" I asked, my throat dry.

"About eleven."

Allison. I never texted her, she was probably worried I went Freddie Kruger myself.

"Oh, okay. You can send her up." I yawned falling back into a pillow.

I smiled to myself. I stayed in my bed all night, no dirt caking my feet, no terrible visions.

Just blissful, blissful sleep. There was a knock on my door and I looked up, not to see Allison.

"Morning." Came the awkward reply.

Stiles. Stiles was here, in my room. I quickly pushed my hands under my comforter.

"What are you doing here?" I mumbled, frowning.

Stiles walked further into my room, I wished he didn't.

"I came to check on you." He stated, like it was obvious.

"You shouldn't be here." I shook my head, not meeting his awaiting eyes.

"Come on Lydia, a lot happened last night, you wanna talk about it?"

I shook my head quickly. "You should go."

Stiles stared at me, stared through me. "Is that what you really want?" His voice was tight.

I nodded, not looking at him but at my comforter surrounding me. Where my hands were.

Safely away from him.

He got up. "Fine." He scoffed, and walked out the door, shutting it in the process.

I sighed, I wasn't going to cry, and got up. This was for the best.

I started to make my bed when the door opened again.

"Mom, no we didn't get into a fight and no you do not need to call that stupid shrink-"

I turned towards my door, knowing what my mom was going to say to me with Stiles' quick exit.

But it wasn't my mom, and it wasn't a dream, it was Stiles with a determined look illuminating his eyes.

He came towards me, closing the distance, making air impossible to squeeze between us and kissed me.

Kissing Stiles was something I had been thinking about since that night in the roller rink. His lips were so lush, his eyes so bright, everything about him oddly inviting all so suddenly. I didn't know if he had ever kissed someone, and I was too nervous to ask, but now that I knew he had, seeing it with my own eyes only making me want to more, to prove to him that I was better than Erica, that we were better. Stiles' lips were soft and hard against mine, forceful, proving to me that I he didn't fear me and I shouldn't fear him. His hand firm in my hair, tangling himself inside it, not letting me go. I started to worry about a million things, morning breath, was I better than Erica, would I try and kill him? I kept my hands, my cruel, dangerous hands bunched in his shirt, holding him just as tightly to me. This kiss was different than any I ever had, and believe me, I had a few. This kiss was brilliant, first kisses have always been special to me, because everything is brand new, but kissing Stiles didn't feel like that, this felt like a kiss I've had a hundred times, it was safe and comforting and just, Stiles. As my lips parted, moving in sync with his I knew he wasn't scared of me, that he had no reason to be. I slowly, hesitantly let my hands fall from his shirt and wrap around his neck, tightly, bringing us even closer, if that was possible. Kissing Stiles Stilinski, it had a nice ring to it, and I smiled into the kiss, right before we both pulled back, panting for air. My eyes opened slowly, fearing that this may indeed be a dream. He was staring at me, his eyes smoldering and bright, like honey mixed with the sun. He smiled at me and I at him. My arms unhooked themselves from his neck and slowly made their way down his shoulders, his arms, to his hands, so soft, inviting, hands that couldn't hurt anyone if he tried. He grabbed mine, holding them firm in his, like I would pull away too soon, ruin this moment.

"Wow." I breathed, still very lightheaded.

"I love you too." He whispered, his lips brushing mine so softly, maybe he didn't even do it.

"What?" I blinked, his thumbs stroked my hands, the hands that tried to kill him. I tightened my grip.

Stiles looked down, we were still so close, I felt his heart pound.

"Last night, you were telling Peter Hale you loved me, you kept yelling it." Stiles shrugged.

I let out a gasp that was nearing laughter.

"I did?" I asked, dumbly. I could see his thoughts turning.

"No, no. I meant it." I rushed, pulling him even closer.

"Yeah?" He whispered, so unsure of himself. Even after that epic kiss.

"Yes." I laughed, smiling at him. I let my hands leave his, to comb my hair back.

"I love you, Stiles. I'm sorry it took me so long to realize that."

Stiles smiled then, taking his hands, cupping my face.

"I'm not saying that things are gonna change though." I started, his brows rose.

"I mean, just cause you're my boyfriend now doesn't mean I have to be nice to you."

Stiles licked his lips with a deep chuckle.

"Your boyfriend?" He questioned, his hands trailing down to my neck gentley.

"Only if you want." I mumbled, looking down at his arms.

"Oh, I want." He was blunt, I liked it

"But I'm not sure it's what you want."

I looked up at him. "Stiles, I just said that-"

"Hear me out." He asked, tugging me by the arm down onto my half made bed.

"Lydia I have liked you for so long, and Erica didn't change that for me. Sure, I liked her, whatever, but it's always been you. I have only ever loved you, Lydia. But it took Erica showing interest in me for you to even realize I was more than Scott McCall's shadow." He sounded sad.

"I don't want you to wake up tomorrow and realize this wasn't real."

"It is real." I mumbled playing with his larger fingers. It hurt though, because he was right.

"Fine, your not my boyfriend. Not yet." I offered, looking up.

"We haven't even went out on a real date yet."

He snorted. "Hope your cheap."

I scoffed and went to hit him, he quickly grabbed my arm.

"Don't get on my bad side, I'll start casting spells." I teased.

Stiles leaned in closer, his breath tickling my cheeks.

"I'd like to see that." He whispered, his lips nearing.

This was too slow, too painfully slow. I knew that was probably how Stiles was, take his time with things he knew he could, since his mind was moving at the speed of light. But right now, he wasn't fidgeting next to me, and he wasn't rambling about nonsense. He was about to kiss me, but sorry I was going to beat him to it. I pulled him towards me, my hands on his face, cheeks so soft, and our lips met.

So I've learned that I didn't know a lot of things, not like I used to. I thought I had it all figured out once upon a time. I never thought I'd be the jealous type, never thought I'd believe in werwolves and witches and mythical creatures going to my high school. Never believed in magic, or that I could fall for someone like Stiles Stilinski. But I do believe, and did fall for him. We'd figure out everything later on, all the complications that I knew our lives would probably now have forever. I knew I was going to be chewed out for putting myself and everyone around my in danger, and that Erica was probably going to kill me on Monday when Stiles and I walked into school holding hands, bur right now I didn't care. And I wouldn't be jealous anymore, because Stiles was right here, where he should be.

And thank god! I hated what that did to me.


End file.
